


So hold my hand, I'll walk with you

by riversdamsel



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversdamsel/pseuds/riversdamsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not until later that day does he realize that he never caught her name.  He’d been too distracted by her hair and her eyes and her /woman-ness/ to even think to introduce himself.  All he had wanted was to pull her in and kiss her until his lungs burned for air, which is ridiculous because he doesn’t know a single thing about her- aside from that she’s bloody gorgeous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is in response to a prompt asking for Matt working on the set of Moll Flanders...and then it sort of escalated from there.
> 
> The first chapter is just the prologue and it takes place after the events of the rest of the fic

His heart is all but beating out of his chest as he buttons up the waistcoat of his three piece suit with shaking fingers.  Matt inhales deeply, attempting to calm his nerves as he faces the mirror, butterflies flitting restlessly in his stomach and a wide grin spread across his face that has been irremovable since he woke. 

 

With a brief tug at the lapels of his jacket, he cautiously opens his door and peers into the corridor, checking to make sure no one is standing outside- particularly a certain redheaded friend of his.

 

After deeming it safe, he slips out and down the hall, moving silently and counting the doors he passes as he goes until he stops in front of the right one.  Knowing he could be caught at any moment, he briefly glances to the right and left of him before leaning closely to the door and whispering, “Alex?”

 

There’s the soft padding of feet against carpet and the clicking of the door as it opens.  Before it has the chance to open more than two inches, Matt’s hand is on the handle, forcefully closing it back and wincing at the resulting echoing slam.

 

“You  _know_  I’m not supposed to see you yet,” Matt gently chides, and he hears Alex huff in response.

 

“I’ve not seen you since yesterday evening, Matthew, I think that’s long enough.”

 

Smiling softly at her cross tone, he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, “You know that’s not how it works.  And besides,” he glances at his watch, “We only have twenty more minutes.  Not much longer.”  Though even as he says it, he is just _itching_ to open the door.

 

“Whose idea was it to abide by this stupid tradition, anyway?”

 

Matt laughs.  “Kazza suggested it.  But _we_ decided on it.”

 

“Well, Karen’s not here and we can always _undecide_ on it.”

 

He pauses, thinking about how much he wants to see her in her dress and kiss her just once more before they’re _married_.  His hand twists the door handle, any resistance he had now lying at his feet as he gives in.  But then a very loud, very _Scottish_ voice of that redheaded friend he was trying to avoid yells, “Oi!  Smith!  Don’t you _dare_ ,” causing him to jump back from the door as if it were on fire.

 

Matt can hear Alex laughing and he glares at the door as if he can actually see her, “It’s not funny Kingst- gah!”  His sentence is cut off as Karen grabs him by the ear and begins dragging him down the hallway.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s  _bad luck_  for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, stupid?”  Karen asks as she shoves him into his room.

 

Matt glares at her, rubbing at his ear, “I wasn’t going to go in, Kazza.”

 

Her brow rises in disbelief, and he huffs before changing the subject, “So what are you doing in here, anyway?”

 

“Just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

 

“Well how do I look, then?”  He asks, tugging at his jacket proudly.

 

Karen briefly looks him up and down before rolling her eyes, “Like an idiot.”

 

Matt visibly deflates and she laughs, “You would think you’d have learned how to tie a bow tie by now.  Seeing as they’re  _cool_  and all,” gesturing at his poorly tied black bow tie.

 

“I don’t actually have to  _tie_  the ones on set, Kaz,” he argues, sticking his tongue out at her as he yanks at the knot and pulls it from around his neck.

 

“Give it,” she demands, snatching it from his grasp and up righting the collar of his shirt.  With her brow furrowed in concentration, she places the tie around his neck and begins to loop the two ends together as Matt bounces on the balls of his feet.

 

Karen huffs.  “Stand  _still_.”

 

Stilling and choosing to fiddle with the buttons of his waistcoat instead, he looks down at her and whispers, “I’m getting  _married_ , Kaz,” as if he can’t quite believe it.  He can’t help but let out a high pitched giggle of excitement and Karen laughs at the ridiculous grin that is spread across his face.  She finishes tying the bow tie, smoothing her fingers over the black silk, and then pulls him into a tight hug.  “About bloody time, too.”

 

“Yeah,” Matt agrees, his grin growing wider as he returns the hug.  “About bloody time.”


	2. This is as good as place to fall as any

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not until later that day does he realize that he never caught her name. He’d been too distracted by her hair and her eyes and her /woman-ness/ to even think to introduce himself. All he had wanted was to pull her in and kiss her until his lungs burned for air, which is ridiculous because he doesn’t know a single thing about her- aside from that she’s bloody gorgeous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence and the Machine

First day on the job and he is late.  Very,  _very_  late.

 

Bursting through the door, he spins on the heels of his feet and tries to figure out where the bloody hell he is supposed to be.  Just as he turns, he runs smack into someone he  _swears_  was  _not_  there just two seconds ago, and they’re both sent toppling to the ground.  With a groan, he braces his hands on the floor and is about to push himself up when he looks down into the face of the woman beneath him.

 

She chuckles and makes some comment about gracefulness, but Matt barely even hears her, his throat constricting as he suddenly finds himself unable to do much more than stare because  _oh_  she is  _beautiful_.

 

Her face is framed by a riot of dark curls that just never seem to stop, and her eyebrow wings up as she looks at him with intense green eyes, her lips curling into a smirk.  “As comfortable as I am, darling, I would love to get up.”

 

Sputtering out an apology, he hops to his feet, taking her small hand in his and pulling her with him as he feels the back of his neck burning, “Sorry, I was- I just- I’m late-  _really_  late and it’s my first day and I’ve no idea where I’m supposed to be and I wasn’t paying attention and you’d think that after eighteen years I’d be able to control these things,” here he motions to his legs, “but obviously  _not_  and really that’s-”

 

“ _Breathe_ , darling.  It’s  _fine_ ,” she interrupts, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth and her eyes shining with amusement.  “Though I really did like this shirt,” she adds, frowning slightly as she looks between the spilled cup of coffee on the floor and the large, wet stain on the front of her shirt.

 

Oh  _great_.  He’d run into her, fell on top of her,  _and_  spilled her coffee.  He really couldn’t possibly make a worse first impression.

 

Matt gestures helplessly at her shirt with one hand while he scratches awkwardly at the back of his head with the other, “I’ll pay to get it cleaned.  I’m  _really_  sorry.”

 

She rolls her eyes, waving away his offer, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Coffee, then.  Let me buy you coffee,” he tries, desperate to somehow make up for his clumsiness.

 

“That sounds lovely, darling, but didn’t you say you were late?”  She asks, smiling slightly.

 

His eyes widen, “Yes.  Right.  Late.  Tomorrow, then,” he promises as he begins to walk backward.

 

“Tomorrow,” she agrees, her smile widening.

 

An electrical cord running along the ground causes him to stumble backward, almost tripping, but he catches himself and mumbles a brief apology to the cord before looking back at her and repeating, “Tomorrow,” a bright grin spreading across his face.

 

Covering her laugh with her hand, she nods and gives a slight wave as he turns and rushes in the direction he  _thinks_  he’s supposed to be going.

 

It’s not until later that day does he realize that he never caught her name.  He’d been too distracted by her hair and her eyes and her  _woman-ness_  to even think to introduce himself.  All he had wanted was to pull her in and kiss her until his lungs burned for air, which is  _ridiculous_  because he doesn’t know a single thing about her- aside from that she’s bloody gorgeous.

 

But tomorrow he’ll buy her coffee, and maybe he’ll learn her name in return.  And _maybe_ he’ll ask her to lunch.  Maybe.  He grins at the thought, and suddenly tomorrow can’t get here fast enough.

 

XxX

 

Today marks the first official day of filming, and as people swarm around him, busying themselves with setting up cameras and other filming equipment, sudden discouragement begins to loom over him.  If he thought finding Coffee Lady amongst all of these people without knowing her name or even what part she has in the film, he was wrong.  His eyes sweep across the room, vainly searching for a head of dark curls, and with every passing second that he doesn’t see her, the more and more disheartened he becomes. 

 

Just as he turns, planning on searching for her elsewhere, he hears her voice ring out from across the room, “Coffee Boy!”

 

Spinning on his heels, and almost spilling the four coffees he is balancing in their cardboard holders, he finds her ducking underneath a prop and making her way toward him with a smile on her face.

 

His heart almost stops at the sight of what she’s wearing, his voice catching in his throat and rendering him incapable of replying.  The wildness of her hair seems to have been brought to its full potential, teased to the point that any comb faced with the job to tame it would cower in fear.  Smears of dark make up covers her skin to give her the appearance of absolute filthiness, as if she’s been locked in a prison for weeks with no means to clean herself.  But it’s neither of those things that has him staring.  No, it’s the dress with its torn sleeves and corset that cinches around her tiny waist and pushes up her breasts to give her an amount of cleavage he thinks should be illegal that makes it difficult to look away.

 

“My eyes are up here, darling,” she says with a laugh as she reaches him and he snaps his eyes from her chest to her face.

 

“Yes.  Right.  Sorry,” the back of his neck burning from embarrassment once again.  With a smile, he shakes himself from his thoughts and holds out the tray of coffees to her as he greets, “Hello Coffee Lady.”

 

“Hello,” she returns with a warm smile, bending slightly to inspect the four coffees as she continues, “For a minute there I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

 

“Never,” he says immediately, as if appalled by the thought that he could ever forget  _her_.  He instantly regrets his quick answer as she glances up at him in amusement.  “I mean- I just- I think it’d be rather difficult to forget about a woman I fell on top of,” he stammers out, the blush at the back of his neck now creeping along his ears.

 

“Oh really?  With legs like those, darling, I assumed I was one of many,” she teases and he grins. 

 

“Surprisingly, I’ve never fallen on anyone else.  I suppose you’re special.”

 

“Well aren’t you a charming one?”

 

Matt shrugs, “I try.”

 

She laughs, a warm sound that wraps around his heart and makes him wish he could hear it all the time, and she turns her focus back to the coffee.

 

“I didn’t know what kind you like so they’re all yours,” he says.

 

Eying them suspiciously she asks, “What kinds are they?”

 

“Oh, well, telling would be cheating,” holding them out closer to her and wiggling his brows.

 

Repressing a smile, she reaches for the first cup only for him to suddenly jerk it out of her reach as he exclaims, “Wait!  I almost forgot.  There’s a catch, see.”

 

“A catch?”  She asks, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

 

Matt nods, “I get to ask you one question for each coffee you take.”

 

“Go on then,” she says, unfolding her arms and taking the first coffee from the tray, “What’s your first question?”

 

“Tell me your name?”

 

She takes a sip of her coffee and looks at it in disgust before answering, “Alex.”

 

“Like Alexandra?”

 

She scrunches her nose at the use of her full name and throws him a glare, “Call me that and you  _will_  regret it, Coffee Boy.”

 

“It’s Matt.  Matt Smith,” he says with a grin.  She smirks, “ _Like Matthew_?”

 

“Okay, point taken.”

 

Alex laughs at his small frown before pointing out, “I do believe you’ve used your second question.”

 

“What?  _No_.  That’s not  _fair_ ,” he whines, and she only smiles brightly in return as she takes the second coffee.

 

Secretly pleased when she rejects it, Matt holds out the third cup as she looks at it suspiciously.  “Did you make all of these purposefully horrible?”  

 

He grins.  “Maybe.”  Knowing full and well that he _did_ order three bitter coffees in hopes that she would reject each one, giving him another opportunity to ask her another question.

 

She glares at him, reaching for the next coffee nonetheless, and if his heart flutters lightly when her fingers gently brush against his as she takes the cup, he ignores it.  “Alright.  Next question.  What role do you have in this film?”

 

But then it is his turn to glare as she answers, “Oh but darling,  _telling would be cheating_.”

 

Having made another disagreeable face at the third one, she’s just about to take the last coffee when he holds it out of her reach, “That was  _not_  an answer.  Stop cheating.”

 

Suddenly he finds himself less than an inch from her as she makes to seize the coffee.  Eyes set in determination, she grabs for it as he stretches his arm higher.  He really can’t stop his eyes from drifting to her chest as she reaches or the blush that spreads up his neck and tickles the tips of his ears as he openly stares, and he thinks he would like to personally thank whoever’s idea it was to put her in period dress because  _bloody hell_.

 

“I wasn’t  _cheating_.  You never specified what qualified as an answer,” she argues, placing a hand on his chest to balance herself as she stands on the tips of her toes, her fingers wiggling just out of reach of the coffee.  His heart is sent racing as her touch sears through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he’s fairly sure that if he were to look down right now, there would be a red imprint of her hand burned onto his chest.

 

“You play dirty,” Matt pouts, pretending to be unaffected by her being so close he can smell the intoxicating scent of vanilla and honey that surrounds her.

 

Alex leans in so her mouth is by his ear, her chest pressing into his, and his breath hitches as she whispers, “Darling, you have  _no idea_.”  Her suggestive tone sets him off guard just long enough for her to snag the coffee and she steps back with a triumphant, “Ha!”

 

“I’m afraid you’re down to your last question,” she states with a smug smile as he stares at her with his mouth slightly open.  And there it is again- that overwhelming want to just push her up against the nearest wall and snog her senseless.

 

Her giggle pulls him from his thoughts and her glowers at her, “Cheater.”  Alex shrugs unapologetically and sips the coffee contentedly, having decided that she actually likes this one.

She looks at him expectantly over the rim of her cup and he inwardly braces himself.  Okay.  Last question.

 

Matt stands a little taller, trying to appear confident as he asks, “Would you like to go to lunch later?”  Her surprise is written across her face and any confidence he has immediately falters as he continues, “I mean- I just thought- I don’t really know anyone here and there’s this place down the street that I really love and it’s never any fun going by myself and-”

 

“I can’t,” she says, cutting off his ramble.  His shoulders droop and he suddenly finds himself staring at the ground, his cheeks burning from embarrassment.  Of course she’d say no, he’s just a kid who’s wasted her time with his stupid question-coffee game and then had the nerve to ask her to lunch when she’s so very obviously out of his league.

 

“My schedule is packed for the next couple of days, so maybe Saturday?”  Matt looks up at her as if he can’t believe what she’s saying, hope blooming in his chest.  “Saturday would be great,” he says, unable to contain his excited grin.  She smiles back.  “Good.”

 

A member of the crew runs up to them, looking agitated as he says, “You were needed on set five minutes ago, Ms. Kingston,” and throws Matt a glare as if it’s his fault.

 

“Oh.  Yes.  Of course.  I’ll be right there.”  With one more disapproving look at them both, he walks off, mumbling something about  _actors_.  She looks back at Matt, “Until tomorrow, then?”

 

“Until tomorrow,  _Ms. Kingston_.”  That earns him a roll of her eyes as she turns to leave, but as she rounds a corner, she glances back and throws him a smile that has him all but swooning forward.

 

_Oh hell._

 

What is he getting himself into?

 

 


	3. And somehow I'm feeling, it's up that I fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt nods his understanding and for the first time he notices that the set is made to look like a bedroom scene. He flushes suddenly because he /knows/ what this film is about. But if he wants to make it in the filming business, scenes like /this/ are required and he can’t let himself be affected by it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "As Long as You're Mine," from the musical Wicked
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews left so far- just know that they put the most ridiculous smile on my face (:

Props.  That was his job.  He was told where to put them and how they needed to be arranged, and he did it.   _Not_  lighting.  But a few members of the lighting department were out and they asked  _him_  to fill in.  Well.   _Ask_  might be a bit of an understatement.  It was more like, “Hey kid, go make yourself useful and help the lighting crew, will ya?”  Before he had time to stutter out an answer, some rather heavy equipment was forced into his arms with a, “And take this with you.  Thanks, kid,” and he was left standing there without a clue.

 

Now, a good quarter of an hour later, he’s found the right set door and is stumbling through it, having managed  _not_  to break any of the equipment, which makes him  _quite_  proud of himself.

 

“Where have you  _been_?”  Asks a member of the crew as the equipment is taken from him and begins to be set up without waiting for an answer.

 

“Alright.  Your job’s pretty simple,” the crew member says as he finishes with the equipment, “All you gotta do is make sure that the beam of this light stays right there,” gesturing towards a particular area of the set, “and only adjust the brightness if you’re told to, okay?”

 

Matt nods his understanding and for the first time he notices that the set is made to look like a bedroom scene.  He flushes suddenly because he  _knows_  what this film is about.  But if he wants to make it in the filming business, scenes like  _this_  are required and he can’t let himself be affected by it.

 

“Oh and will you do one more thing?”  The crew member asks.  “Go take Ms. Kingston’s robe and tell her that we’re about to begin.”

 

Going cold all over, Matt turns on his heels until he spots that riot of dark curls.  His heart leaps to his throat and his mouth goes dry because  _oh hell_.  Why didn’t she  _tell_  him? 

 

He finds himself frozen in place as realization sets in.  Alex is Moll.  The very star of this production.  Matt stares at Alex as the makeup lady holds her chin up with one hand and brushes a light blush over her cheeks with the other.  God, if he thought that she was out of his league before he had  _no idea_.

 

He had  _fallen on top of her_ , spilling her coffee all down the front of her shirt, and had made her play a ridiculous, pointless game in hopes of getting to know her, when really it was a waste of her time.  She’s the  _star_.  She doesn’t have time for kids like him, but she had entertained him anyway. 

 

Face burning from a new wave of embarrassment, Matt squares his shoulders and walks over to her, planning on being strictly professional.  He likes her.  He really  _really_  likes her.  But who wouldn’t?  She’s stunningly beautiful, inside and out from what he can tell, and she carries herself in such a way that he thinks it would be hard for any man not to stare after her as she walks past, leaving the lingering scent of vanilla and honey trailing behind her.  There’s no reason she should even give him a second glance, so why try?  He’s here for one reason- his job.

 

And that’s how he should keep it.  Professional.

 

“Ms. Kingston,” he greets as he reaches her.

 

Opening one eye as the makeup lady continues her job, Alex grins at the sight of him, a smile that lights up her face and sends Matt’s heart pounding.  He almost laughs out loud at how pathetic he suddenly feels, his resolve weakening at just her smile.  Keeping his thoughts about this woman strictly professional is going to be a lot harder than he originally thought.

 

“Hello, darling.  Come to watch the show?”  The makeup lady narrows her eyes slightly as Alex moves, but continues to swipe the brush across her face.

 

Alex’s smile is nothing short of mischievous as she looks at him, heat flooding directly to his groin because  _really_.  She should definitely  _not_  be allowed to wear that short of a robe, especially when he knows there’s nothing underneath, and smile at him as if she knows  _exactly_  what kind of filthy thoughts are filling his eighteen-year-old brain.

 

“Yes- I mean  _no_ \- I mean- I’m working with the lights today because some of the other crew are out and I’m just a prop person and really I have  _no idea_  what I’m doing with the lights even though some bloke  _told_  me what to do but I don’t exactly remember because then I saw  _you_  standing over here and you know you’re quite distracting with your hair and all and-”

 

Alex laughs brightly, halting his ramble.  The makeup lady huffs and glowers at Matt before putting away the brush and stalking off, realizing that she isn’t going to getting anymore work done than she already has.

 

“You’re really quite good at the whole rambling thing, darling,” she says with a smile, hooking a curl behind her ear.  His cheeks flush once again and he wishes that just once he could be around her without acting like the stupid bloody teenager he is.  So much for being professional.

 

Matt clears his throat, scratching at the back of his head as he changes the subject, “I was told to tell you that they’re getting ready to start and um…I’m supposed to take your robe.”  He holds his hand out for it awkwardly and could he  _get_  any more embarrassed?

 

She smirks, her eyes shining as she teases, “Trying to get me out of my clothes so soon, Mr. Smith?  How forward.”  With a wink, she turns her back to him and pulls at the tie keeping the robe closed.  It falls open at her sides, and with horror he realizes that she wants his help as she extends her arms.

 

Barely breathing, he reaches for the collar of her robe with shaking fingers.  His fingertips brush lightly against her skin as he pulls the fabric away, an electric shock shooting through him at the simple touch, and a smile coming to his lips as he sees chills rise on her skin from the brief contact.

 

The robe slips from her body and he really can’t help his eyes from following the delicate line of her spine down to the curve of her bum as he drapes the thin piece of clothing over his arm.  When she turns, he swears he stops breathing.  If he thought she was beautiful before, it was  _nothing_  to how she stands before him now- completely,  _gloriously_  naked.

 

It’s not like he’s never seen a naked girl before; he had  _quite_  a few experiences in his last couple years of secondary school- some of those he’d rather forget if he’s completely honest.  But pure desire runs through his veins at the sight of Alex’s naked form, everything from her long, toned legs, to the dent at her waist that gives her a _stunning_  hourglass figure, to how she stands completely proud of her body without a scrap of clothing on, exudes pure  _woman_.

 

If his gaze lingers a bit too long on her breasts, well, no one can fault him for it.  They all but call for his attention, soft-looking and _perfect_ really, and he knows just by looking that they would fit in his palms as if they were made for just that reason.  But while he can look, he can’t  _touch_  and he thinks that this  _has_  to be some form of torture.

 

“Enjoying the view, darling?”

 

Matt snaps his eyes to her face to find her smirking at him.  Heat burns at his cheeks as he realizes he’s been staring for entirely too long and he drops his gaze to the floor.

 

“Sorry- I- It’s just- You-” He huffs in an attempt to stop stammering and looks up at her sheepishly through his fringe, “You’re just really beautiful.”

 

He expects some quip that will bring the blush back to his face, but instead her eyes soften at the sincerity in his voice and she smiles warmly at him.  Whatever she was going to say in response is lost as her co-star and Moll’s fourth husband, Daniel Craig, calls to her from beside the bed, “It’s time to get in bed, wife!”

 

Glancing at Daniel and then back at him, Alex asks, “We’re still on for lunch on Saturday, yeah?”

 

Matt nods wordlessly and she beams, “Great.”  His eyes are glued to her bum and the way her hips sway with every step as she walks away with a “Coming, husband!” directed at Daniel.

 

The way she straddles her costar as they take their positions for the shoot has his heart beating fiercely against his ribcage, and sod his brain to hell because he immediately imagines Alex sitting in  _his_  lap with those glorious thighs on either side of him.

 

Matt stays rooted in his spot as Alex throws her head back and laughs brightly at something Daniel says, all of her golden skin pressed against his.  It is not until someone pushes him from his spot with a, “Don’t have time to just stand around, kid.  We’re on a schedule, here,” does he realize he has been standing there for far too long.

 

Swallowing heavily, Matt moves behind the lighting equipment and suddenly finds his gaze attracted to floor, unable to bring himself to look back up.  Whoever thought that him being here was a good idea was so completely  _wrong_.  How is he supposed to do his job with Alex stripped down to nothing but skin, flaunting her curves and flashing smiles and, and, and just being so incredibly  _sexy_  that it makes it hard for him to even  _breathe_.

 

Just minutes ago he had resolved himself to staying strictly professional, which is the smart thing to do, according to his brain.  But his heart has him thoroughly convinced that his attraction toward her could easily grow into something so much bigger, and all he has to do is convince her that he is a worth a chance.  However, some things are easier said than done, and that tiny voice inside his head is niggling at him, telling him that chasing after her will only lead to a broken heart from inevitable rejection.  But he wishes it would just  _shut up_ , because something about her has latched onto his heart and pulls him toward her like a moth to a flame, and oh god the fire is going to engulf him and burn him alive, but he doesn’t even  _care_.  She is everything he never realized he wanted, and yet everything he thinks he can never have, but that isn’t enough to stop him from trying.

 

Confidence blooms within him from his newfound determination, and it’s not until he hears a low, purely  _sinful_  moan does he come back from his thoughts and remember exactly where he is.  Apparently filming has started because Alex has her head thrown back, her curls tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, her eyes shut and her mouth slightly open as her co-star presses open-mouthed kisses along her throat.  Daniel pulls Alex closer to his frame, his fingers curling into the skin at her waist and the only thing Matt can do is stare.

 

The look of pure ecstasy that crosses Alex’s face sends thrills shooting straight to his groin, and he thinks he would be willing to do  _anything_  for that look to be caused by him.  The sharp gasp she makes as Daniel dips his head to pull one of her stiff, dusky nipples into his mouth is enough to send chills shivering across his skin and cause his jeans to become even more uncomfortable than they had been a second ago.

 

It all suddenly becomes too much for him to bear, and he forces himself to look away, wishing he could be anywhere else but here.  Matt glances around the room to see the other members of the crew viewing the scene with completely impassive looks.  His face heats up because here he is, in a room full of professionals, painfully hard from just  _watching_  and listening to her noises of pleasure that do nothing but fuel his fantasies- fantasies he fully intends on reliving once he’s in the privacy of his own home.

 

Relief floods through him as the director calls cut, but it is very short-lived as it’s announced that they want another take.

 

The universe must hate him. 

 

Matt glances in Alex’s direction to find her smirking at him, as if she can  _see_  the desire he has for her coursing through his very being.  Shifting uncomfortably in his too-tight jeans, he musters a weak smile in return and is thankful that her penetrating gaze is directed away from him as filming starts up once again.

 

By the time the director is happy with the scene and they wrap for the day, all Matt wants is to get back to his flat as fast as possible so he can take care of the built up frustration that seems to currently be dominating his every thought.  Though the crew around him are busying themselves with packing equipment, he can only stare as Alex steps to the floor from the bed and stretches like she hasn’t moved in ages.  Somehow the sight of her reaching her hands high above her head, her muscles stretching and flexing under skin as she lifts herself on her toes, is more erotic to him than any of the things she just did for the film.  His mouth turns dry as he rakes his gaze over her curves, and the impulse to just push her back onto the bed and shag her blind right there is suddenly all he can think about.

 

Alex catches his gazes and grins before making her way over to him.  His heart is racing as he frantically searches his brain for something to say, and hoping that she doesn’t notice his very obvious reaction to her.

 

But, as he concluded earlier, the universe does indeed hate him, and the first thing she does when she comes to a stop in front of him is drag her eyes along his frame, lingering a bit too long in one area in particular.  Matt swallows heavily and can see a smirk forming at the edges of her lips as she smiles up at him, her eyes shining.

 

The embarrassment that seems to cling to him whenever she’s around crawls up the back of his neck, and she saves him from having to say anything by reaching for her robe that he only just now realizes is still draped over his arm.

 

“Thank you,” she says as she slips into the thin piece of clothing.  He doesn’t have time to reply before she’s invading his personal space, placing one hand on the side of his face as she leans up to press a soft kiss to his opposite cheek.

 

“See you Saturday, darling.”

 

And with that, she’s sashaying away, leaving him to yet again to stare after her, his skin humming from the little shocks sent through him by the soft touch of her lips against his skin.

 

XxX

 

“Definitely magic,” Matt states.  Alex glances up at him over the top of her menu, eyebrow quirked, “What’s magic?”

 

He gestures wildly at her untamed curls, “Your hair.”

 

She rolls her eyes, refocusing her attention on the menu as she says, “It’s  _not_  magic, darling.”

 

“Has to be.  There is no other explanation.”

 

“Explanation for what, exactly?”

 

“How bloody distracting it is,” Matt says with a huff and she laughs, filling his chest with warmth.

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Then explain to me how it’s distracting,” she says, putting the menu down and resting her chin in the palm of her hand, giving him her full attention.

 

“Well- I- It’s just…it just  _is_ , okay?”  Flushing suddenly and knowing that he’d never admit to imagining burying his hands in her thick hair to let her curls tangle around his fingers as he hauls her into a bruising kiss that would either end up leaving them both breathless, or him getting slapped.  And if he wouldn’t admit to that, he  _certainly_  wouldn’t admit to the thoughts he has of her when he’s alone.

 

Her eyes shine with amusement as she reopens the menu, “See?  Ridiculous.”

 

“I beg to differ, Ms. Kingston.”

 

She huffs lightly.  “You  _have_  to drop the  _Ms._ ”

 

“Fine,” Matt says with a grin, his blush fading, “Kingston it is.”

 

Her eyes narrow slightly at him as she hides her smile behind her menu, only causing his grin to grow wider.

 

As she returns to reviewing the food choices, he glances across the room to see the waiter returning for the fourth time to ask if they are ready to order.  “Your time’s up,” Matt states, plucking the menu from her grasp.

 

“Oi!  I’m not done looking,” she exclaims, reaching for it from across the table.  Fending her off with his free hand, he grins, “Sit down, Kingston.  It’s inappropriate to throw yourself at me in a public place, you know.”

 

“I hate you,” Alex says with a huff, leaning back in her seat and glowering at him as the waiter reaches their table.  “You don’t,” Matt replies confidently before turning to the waiter and ordering for them both.

 

Repressing a smile, she rolls her eyes at him as the waiter retreats and he turns back to her with a smile.  His expression falls as she lifts her glass to her lips.  The sun filtering through the window catches the gold band that gleams proudly on her left ring finger, and suddenly he feels extremely ill.

 

An aching pain settles in his chest as it feels as if his heart is being twisted into a knot.  He reaches up to rub at the spot as if that will make it go away, following the movement of the ring as she places her glass back on the table.  The way it shines up at him is almost as if it’s laughing at him, wiping away any chance with her he might have ever had and labeling her as off-limits.

 

God, he is so  _stupid_.  Of course she’s married.   _Of course_  she is. 

 

He’s never been in a  _serious_  relationship- always in it for the fun and nothing more.  Foolishly he had thought the woman sitting in front him was going to change everything.  He barely knows anything about her, but he  _does_  know that there’s just something  _different_  about her.  Just her smile and her laugh and the way she looks at him has him teetering on the edge, and it wouldn’t take much more to make him fall without having any way of getting back up.

 

The soft touch of her hand on his jerks him from his thoughts, and he looks up to see Alex looking at him with concern clearly written across her brow.

 

“Are you okay, darling?”

 

_Darling_.  A pet name that makes his heart flutter every time she labels him with it.  Now, as he realizes that the term of endearment has always only ever been tossed carelessly at him, it adds to the sting of rejection she has unknowingly given him by simply wearing that band.

 

But it doesn’t make any  _sense_.  It’s obvious that she enjoys making him flustered, and she invades his personal space on a near constant basis.  Add a wedding band to the equation and suddenly he doesn’t understand.  But then again, this is  _Alex_.  He noticed earlier this morning on set that she flirts shamelessly with  _everyone_.  So what makes him any different?

 

Forcing himself to meet her gaze, he pastes a smile on his face as he answers, “Fine.  I’m fine.”

 

Alex watches him skeptically, but thankfully their food arrives and her attention is directed away from him and his suddenly broody mood.

 

For a moment, they sit in silence and Matt picks at his food before finally asking, “So…you’re married?”

 

Glancing up, he doesn’t miss the way she frowns slightly at the wedding band on her finger, as if she despises it almost as much as he does.

 

“I am.”

 

Silence falls back over them, and when he finally looks back up at her, he finds nothing but a deep sadness in her eyes as she stares at her ring.  Guilt washes over him and suddenly he feels  _so stupid_ , having unwittingly touched on a bad subject.

 

Before he thinks about what he’s doing, he’s reaching out and taking her hand in his and asking, “Alex, what’s wrong?”  It scares him, really, that he thinks that he would be willing to do anything to bring back that smile of hers he loves so much.

 

“Everyone said it would never last,” she says, attempting to sound unaffected as she stares down at their hands, but he can hear the pain lining her voice.

 

“Last year I caught him cheating.  There were the small things like him saying he was going to be filming late, or him smelling of this cheap floral perfume when he stumbled in at two in the morning after a night with ‘the guys.’  And I ignored it at first, figuring it was better to pretend nothing was going on instead of face the truth- it was easier that way.  But eventually it got to the point that I felt like he was smacking me in the face with another lie to cover up his second life every time I turned around.”

 

She pauses, her gaze unfocused as the edges of her lips curl into a bitter smile, “When I finally confronted him about it, his apology was so sincere I had no choice but to give him a second chance.  Called himself a giant prick for ever thinking he could have feelings for someone other than me.  Once he promised that there was no way he would ever even  _consider_  it again, I fell back into his arms.”

 

“So stupid,” she mumbles, “He really is a talented actor.  A week ago I found a pair of purple lacy knickers lying under our bed, and they are definitely  _not_  mine.”

 

Pausing again, she gives a short laugh, “It’s funny how much I can resent people for being right.”

 

A tear slides silently down her face, proving that her offhanded tone doesn’t mirror the emotional turmoil she hides so well behind a smile.  His heart clenches at the thought that she isn’t  _happy_.  And he never would have guessed- not with the way she goes around set with a bright smile ready for anyone she passes by, determined to keep up everyone’s spirits even if shooting runs over into the early morning.

 

He wants to pull her to him and kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her until all of her pain is gone.  But he can’t, so he settles for reaching out and gently running the back of his forefinger across her cheekbone and erasing the tear as if it was never there, wishing he could do the same for her heartache.

 

Alex jumps at his touch, as if just remembering he’s there, and if his heart had a crack in it before, it was full out broken now just by the sadness and utter loss in her eyes as she looks at him.

 

“He’s an idiot,” Matt says and her brow furrows in confusion.

 

“And obviously blind since he can’t see what an amazing woman he has right in front of him.” 

 

She gives him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Darling, you don’t have to-”

 

“No,” he interrupts, “I know…I know that I haven’t known you for very long, but god, I can see that any guy would be so,  _so_  lucky to have you.”

 

Unable to meet her eyes any longer, he focuses on his glass as he continues.  “I know that in your eyes I’m just a clumsy kid who goes around spilling coffee on people, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I’m talking about when I say he doesn’t deserve you.”  Matt takes a moment to square his jaw before look back up at her.  “And he doesn’t, you know.”

 

Her expression softens at his words, and something loosens in his chest as she gives him a small smile.  After giving a smile in return, he turns his attention back to his food, though he can still feel her gaze on him.  When he glances back up, his heart nearly trips out of his chest at the expression on her face.  It’s soft.  Contemplative.  And yet lit with the fire of new determination.

 

“I don’t, you know,” Alex says softly.

 

“Don’t what?”

 

“Look at you as just a kid.  I- you- you’re-”  Matt smiles as she huffs at her inability to form a sentence.  For once it’s not  _him_  stumbling to get the right words out.

 

She reaches over to place her palm on the center of his chest, her fingers spreading across the cotton fabric of his shirt, and he wonders if she can feel the rate of his heart double at just her touch.

 

“Age is just a number.  And you…you have an old soul.”  She shrugs.  “That’s what makes you different.” 

 

Grinning suddenly, she leans back in her seat before adding, “Though you look about twelve.”

 

It feels as if the atmosphere around them has suddenly lightened as he laughs.  “Oi!  Kingston!  That is  _rude_.”

 

In that moment, as she laughs brightly and makes some teasing remark, he thinks that nothing short of her being half the world away would keep him from chasing her- and even then that might not be enough to stop him.  The funny thing is, he barely even knows her- what he feels could be nothing more than simple infatuation- but something tugging at his heart makes him think that she could be the woman that he’s meant to be with.  And ring or no ring, he is determined to make her feel the same about him.


	4. Won't you wrap the night around me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could have asked Daniel or just about any other member of the cast to run through this scene with her- but she didn’t. She asked Matt, which in hindsight was very bad, very /not good/ idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Jack White's cover of Love is Blindness
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone reading this story (: (: (:

The sound of her insistent alarm brings her from sleep, her eyes opening to blearily view the empty side of the bed, something that brings a frown to her face in her groggy state before she realizes that _of course_ it’s empty- she's been staying in a temporary flat to avoid the hassle of commuting while filming Moll.  But as she reaches out to shut off her alarm, she thinks that there's something about the sheets being cold and unwrinkled, with the other pillow still fluffed and untouched, that puts a small smile on her face.

 

When she's at home, it's normal for her to wake with the weight of her husband's arm slung around her waist and the smell of him wrapped all around her.  Though lately, and more often than not, there's a different smell under the scent of his fresh aftershave.  Something floral, heavy and so very  _female_.  It's nauseating, and the heaviness in her chest is amplified by knowing that only hours ago he was in the arms of another woman.

 

So it's refreshing really, for her to be able to wake without the greeting of the cloying smell of a stranger or to the presence of a man she can no longer bring herself to love.  Alex holds her left hand in front of her face, frowning slightly as she inspects her wedding band.  Her hand suddenly doesn't feel like hers- she doesn't  _feel_  like a married woman, and soon she won't be, so  _why_  is she still wearing it?

 

Since the day that ring was slid onto her finger with her standing in front of family and a small group of friends, smiling from ear to ear and feeling beautiful in her white dress, she hasn't removed the band that was meant to be a physical representation of their bond- except, of course, when her job required it.  Ten years they were together before they decided to take their vows, and now, just a few years later, their marriage is crumbling at her feet.

 

_...To have and to hold from this day forward,_

_For better, or for worse..._

 

Alex closes her eyes as the vows echo in her head.   _For better, or for worse_.  She supposes this would be one of those times that would qualify as  _for worse_ , but why should she be expected to stand by her vows when her supposed significant other breaks them so carelessly?

 

Huffing in frustration, Alex sits up suddenly as she tugs the ring off her finger.  Yanking open the drawer to her bedside table, she shoves the ring inside and slams it shut.  A second passes, and she almost reaches for it, almost pulls open the drawer and slips it back on.  But she doesn't, because now, without the heaviness of that band on her finger, she feels a strange lightness in her chest.  She feels free, as if all of her troubles have been removed and temporarily discarded in the drawer along with her ring.

 

With a grin, she all but bounces out of bed and gets dressed.  And by the time she arrives on location, her smile has only grown wider, despite that it is an absolutely  _ungodly_  hour in the morning and she has yet to have her routine coffee.  Once the costume department is finished helping her into her elaborate dress and the hair and makeup ladies are finally done with her (which takes  _ages_ ), she stands in front of a mirror and smiles, looking every bit the part of Moll.

 

They're filming out of order, and today they shoot the confession scene- one of her absolute favorite parts when she had first read through the script.  Alex laughs lightly as she turns one way then another in front of the mirror, taking in the light, frilly sleeves that hang off her shoulders, the silky red and gold fabric, and the way it pushes her breasts up as high as they can possibly go.  Definitely  _not_  something  _she_  would wear to confession.

 

Hitching up the skirts of her dress, she walks onto set, cheerily greeting everyone she passes and getting mostly unhappy grumbles and complaints that it's  _too early for it to be a good morning_   in response.  She's just about to seek out her co-stars when she spies Matt toward the back of the room, glaring at the small piece of lighting equipment in his hands.

 

As she walks over to him, she just catches the end of his one-sided conversation, "And I'll have you know that you are  _not_  being very nice, and I don't appreciate that  _at all_."

 

"Who exactly are you talking to, darling?"

 

Matt jumps, obviously startled by her presence.  His gaze flicks over her body, and she grins inwardly when his eyes linger on her chest before flushing and looking back up.  "I'm not!  Well I am - was.  Obviously.  But not to a person.  To this."  He gestures toward the piece of equipment in his hand.

 

"And  _why_  isn't it being nice?"

 

" _Because_.  I was coming to find you, but then I tripped on  _that_ ," he waves toward a larger piece of lighting equipment, "And I fell, and it fell, and the coffee I had for you went everywhere and this bit broke off and  _won't go back on_."  Matt takes the piece in his hand and whacks it against the larger piece a few times, as if it will magically adhere, and she has to bite her lip to stifle her giggle.

 

"And you thought talking to it would fix everything?"

 

He pouts at her amused smirk.  "It's not  _funny_ , Kingston."

 

"Of course it isn't, darling."  

 

Her teasing tone causes him to narrow his eyes at her, but she only laughs in return, taking the equipment from his hands.  Circling the larger piece, she inspects it until she finds what looks to be the right spot and reattaches it.  When she turns to face Matt, he gapes at her before he sputters, "You just- it just- You- I've been trying to get it back on for the past half hour!"

 

Alex laughs and he glares playfully at her, "You must have cheated."

 

Gasping in mock disbelief, she presses a hand to her chest, looking appalled.  "How did  _I_ cheat?"

 

"Obviously you're magic, that's how.  Must be all your hair."  Leaning in, he tugs on the end of one of her curls, grinning at her as it bounces back into place.

 

Her breath catches as he invades her personal space.  He's so close she can  _smell_  him- something sharp and minty being overpowered by the smell of the coffee he must have dropped earlier- the coffee for her.

 

"Did you really get me coffee?"  She asks softly, not knowing why he's still standing so close to her, but it makes her skin tingle as she looks up into his warm hazel eyes.  He's  _so_  young.  But attractive- in a gangly short of way.  He's all sharp elbows, slim hips and long fingers.  His jaw is square and covered in slight stubble, his neck long and descending into absolutely  _delicious_ collar bones.  And wait- since when have collar bones been a turn on for her?  She doesn't know, doesn't care, but she  _does_  know that, regardless of his age, everything about him right down to the paleness of his skin and the fullness of his lips makes her want to climb on top of him and ride him until they both collapse from exhaustion.

 

His hand waving in front of her face snaps her from her thoughts, and she jumps slightly in surprise, "What?"

 

"I  _said_ , I did have coffee for you, but then I spilled it all over myself when I fell, so...sorry."  He offers her a small smile as he apologizes, and she can't help but smile in return.

 

"It's the thought that counts, darling."

 

The next thing she knows, she's being called over by the director so he can inform her of some slight script changes before they begin.  The next time she sees Matt it's lunch break and she's buried herself in her script, opting not to eat.  She can feel his presence right in front of her, but she doesn't look up.  Well, not until he snatches her script from her grasp, forcing her to focus on him.

 

"I was reading that, you know."

 

"But I have something important to show you."  He says, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.  

 

"And what would that be?"

 

Grabbing her hands in his, he cups them together before turning so he's facing to the left of her, pulling an apple out from his jacket pocket.  With a coordinated wiggle of his arms, Matt rolls the apple up his right arm, across his shoulders and down his left, the apple dropping into her waiting hands.  

 

He turns to face her with a proud grin and she laughs.  "Is that all?"

 

His face falls, "Oi!  I've been practicing that all day!  It takes  _skill_ , Kingston!"

 

"Oh,  _forgive me_.  I had  _no idea_  you possessed  _such skill_."

 

"I'll have you know that I have  _plenty_ of skill when I set my mind to it."

 

"Oh I bet you do, darling."  She all but purrs the words out and he flushes instantly, choosing to plop down next to her instead of respond, gesturing to the apple as he mumbles, “You should eat.”

 

Taking a bite of the apple, she watches as he tries to avoid looking at her, instead focusing intently on the script he took from her, and she smiles inwardly at how red the tips of his ears still are- he is  _so easy_  to wind up.  Bless.

 

“That’s the script for the scenes we’re supposed to shoot after our day off tomorrow.”  She sighs, glancing down at the words from her spot next to him.  “I’ve not been able to run it with anyone, so I’m still not quite sure how to deliver the lines.”

 

There's silence as he skims over the script, and she worries her lip for a moment before asking, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me out?"

 

His face breaks into a wide grin as he looks at her.  "I'd love to help."

 

"Good," Alex replies with a smile.  "Come by my flat tomorrow evening, then?"

 

Matt nods, and she turns and makes her way back to set, her heart suddenly pounding for no reason, and wondering what the hell she is getting herself into.

 

XxX

 

Tapping her fingers restlessly against her knee, Alex worries her bottom lip as she stares at the clock. 

 

Two hours. 

 

Two hours until he shows up at her flat and walks through her door.

 

Oh god.

 

What the hell had she been thinking?

 

She could have asked Daniel or just about any other member of the cast to run through this scene with her- but she didn’t.  She asked Matt, which in hindsight was very bad, very  _not good_  idea.

 

If she were to say that she didn’t have a deeper intent when she had first asked him to come help her, she would be lying.  But who can blame her, really?  He has a unique charm that draws her in, and that combined with his thick, floppy brown hair, warm hazel eyes and lopsided grin that sends butterflies flitting around in her stomach, makes her feel like a young girl with her first crush- though most of her thoughts about him are  _much_  less innocent.

 

Something in her longs to know how his voice would sound when filled with desire, or what the weight of him on top of her would feel like.  She wants to see his eyes darken with pleasure that is caused by  _her_ , and feel his muscles tense as he lets go, her name on his lips.  She just  _wants him_.  And that in itself is the problem.

 

Glancing down at what she’s wearing, she frowns, suddenly unhappy with her choice of cut-off jeans and a comfortable, oversized jumper.  Her hair is pulled back messily because it’s just  _so bloody difficult_  to manage when it’s this long, and she has the sudden urge to go change and attempt to tame her hair.

 

Instead, she huffs and opens the book resting in her lap- it shouldn’t matter how she’s dressed.  It’s not like she’s trying to impress him.

 

Five minutes later she realizes that she hasn’t retained a single word she’s read.  Closing the book forcefully in irritation, she flings it onto the coffee table and stands.  With another quick glance at the clock she hurries down the hall, suddenly wishing she had more time.

 

By the time Matt is knocking on her door, she has showered, changed and fixed tea in an attempt to calm her seemingly irrational nerves.  If her top is a bit too small and a bit more revealing than necessary, or if the jeans she chose just happen to be her tightest pair, well, it’s  _not_  because she rummaged through all of her clothes looking for them.

 

Giving her curls one last fluff with her hands, she pads over to the door and opens it, a smile on her face.

 

XxX

 

Oh god.

 

What is he doing here?

 

She had asked for help with a script and he had more than willingly agreed, but now he’s not so sure that was the best idea.

 

Matt paces the space in front of Alex’s flat, rolling and unrolling his crumpled copy of the script.  As he stops and stares at the door for what feels like the millionth time, he thinks he’s never been more nervous to enter a woman’s home.  But it’s not just  _any_  woman’s home, it’s  _Alex Kingston’s_  home.

 

She’s sure to fluster him and he’ll probably say something completely  _stupid_  in response, but then she’ll give him that smile that says she thinks he’s adorable.  Well he’s tired of that.  He’s done with being cute, clumsy, easily flustered Matt.  He wants her to see him as  _mature_.  But how exactly is he supposed to accomplish that when he’s so bloody nervous that he cannot control the words that come from his mouth?  But really, the fact that his mouth has a mind of its own is  _why_  he’s nervous in the first place.  It’s like this confusing, never-ending circle of nervousness, and just thinking about it makes his head hurt and  _god dammit Matthew just knock already_.

 

Taking a deep breath, he attempts to calm the irrational bubbles of nervousness welling up inside him, and finally knocks on the door.  As he waits, he chews nervously on the inside of his cheek because  _oh god_  he hadn’t even prepared a plan to calm his nerves before knocking.  Funny thing about his plans, though, is that they never seem to work, all rational thoughts of forming coherent sentences and trying his hardest not to trip over something seem to fly out the window at the first sight of her.

 

He can hear her feet padding gently across the floor, and he continues to fidget with his script until she’s standing in front of him- all magic hair and curves.

 

Alex beams as she greets him and steps aside to let him in with a, “Welcome to my temporary humble abode, Mr. Smith.”

 

Giving a tentative smile in return, Matt moves to walk inside, and ends up all but tripping across the threshold.  Her hands are immediately there to steady him as he mumbles curses to his legs, but it’s her light laugh and the simple act of her reaching to keep him on his feet that suddenly melts away his nervousness.

 

A sudden giddiness blooms within him as he meets her gaze.  “Hi.”

 

Alex laughs warmly.  “Hello.”

 

“Sorry about the, erm,” he scratches at his cheek with one hand and gestures to the space behind him with the other, “tripping.”

 

Her smile only widens as she closes the door and moves into the main room, her next words trailing behind her, “Oh that’s quite alright, darling.  I’ve learned that it’s just a hazard of being around you.”

 

Suddenly he feels  _ridiculous_  about feeling so nervous.  This is Alex.  She’s an excellent actress, witty, sexy as hell, and absolutely  _insane_  for even looking his way.  But she does.  He might be a bit mad for thinking he can make her fall for him as hard as he’s fallen for her, and when he’s not around her is when he realizes just how far fetched of an idea it is and all of his nervousness reappears.  But at times like this, when he’s near her and she’s smiling at him like  _that_ , is when his nervousness completely leaves him and he feels like he can accomplish anything.

 

He pouts.  “Your words, Kingston.  They wound me.”

 

“Aww poor baby,” Alex all but coos, stepping into his personal space, that familiar scent of honey and vanilla wrapping all around him as she breathes out, “Would you like me to kiss your  _wounds_  better?”

 

Matt sniffs pathetically, still feigning injury as he nods.  “Yes I believe that would only be the appropriate thing to do at this point.”

 

His heart speeds up and he thinks  _surely_  she can hear it as she leans in closer, placing her hands on his chest.  Just as he thinks that she really is going to kiss him, she pushes him away with a laugh.  “Oh shove off, Matthew.  You  _can’t_  be serious.”

 

He grins.  “Is that a no then?  You would be a terrible doctor, Kingston- leaving me to tend to my own wounds.”

 

With a roll of her eyes and a smile, she moves over to her coffee table.  “Help me move this, will you?”

 

Together, they push the table against the wall to give them more space.  Matt attempts to smooth out the pages script, but fails miserably as it curls in on itself from him having repeatedly rolled and unrolled it earlier.  With a rise of her brow, Alex pulls down the bottom of the script to watch it roll back into place.

 

“What did you  _do_  to it?”

 

Hesitating, he focuses on the script as he answers, “I was nervous.”

 

She frowns.  “About what?”

 

“Coming here.”  Matt grins as he looks at her slightly shocked expression, “I do tend to be about ten times clumsier when you’re around, you know.”  He leans in to pull gently at one of her curls, watching it spring back up as he continues, “Must be all the magic in your hair.”

 

She gives a breathless laugh that makes his heart do a funny little somersault as she bats his hand away.  “For the millionth time, my hair is  _not_  magic.”

 

“Says you,” he counters as she unrolls the script again.  “So where are we starting?”

 

“How about here?”  She suggests, pointing to a specific part in the script and turning the pages until she comes across another point, “And stop here.”

 

Quickly he scans the page to briefly refresh his memory of the scene, which takes place shortly after Moll’s fourth husband, Jemmy, leaves due to lack of money.  Having decided to turn to the life of a highway man, he lives off his wits and skill with a pistol, running into Moll by happenstance when he chooses to rob a carriage she just so happens to be traveling in.  After lining up the five passengers of the carriage, he takes all of their valuable possessions, minus an old woman’s wedding ring, and leaves Moll for last, pulling her away from the group to talk to her in private under the guise that she needs to be thoroughly searched.

 

Matt nods and tosses the script onto the coffee table, only to turn and see her looking at him with an arched brow.  Grinning proudly, he tugs on the lapels of his jacket, “I’ve got it memorized.”

 

“I’m impressed.”

 

“As you should be,” he returns, all but beaming as she takes her place opposite him and rolls her eyes.

 

His heart is suddenly racing again because he has a plan- and as he knows, his plans  _never_  work.    With acting being his safety net, he can leave his clumsy self behind and try to convey to her just how much he wants her through the character he’s about to temporarily portray.  It’s his chance to be bold and confident about his every move, and that is exactly what he plans on doing.

 

Schooling his expression to one of utter confidence, radiating an air of control, Matt throws himself into the character.

 

“Now you, Madam,” he says smoothly, holding out an imaginary bag for her to deposit her valuables in as the four before her have done.

 

Matt loves how even here, in the small space of her living room and only practicing lines, Alex  _is_  Moll.  Everything from the way she stands a little straighter, holds her chin a bit higher and regards him with a loving gaze as if he  _is_  Jemmy, makes it seem as if Moll is standing in front of him- not Alex.

 

But she  _is_  Alex.  With all of her distracting hair and intense green eyes and soft lips that are just  _begging_  to be captured by his.  And with her looking at him like that, acting or not, it fuels the unexplainable need that claws at his heart.

 

Alex pretends to remove all jewelry that Moll would be wearing, holding his gaze with her own as she pulls a seemingly invisible necklace from her neck and places it in his imaginary bag. 

 

Once she finishes, he looks her up and down before leering forward, “I think there’s more to find.”

 

Her jaw tilts higher, as if silently challenging him.  “Indeed sir, no.”

 

Matt takes half a step forward, all personal boundaries lost as his chest brushes against hers.  “Do you consent to be searched?”

 

“Under protest, sir.”  Her eyes shine and she represses a smile as she looks up at him, but he’s unable to tell if it’s as Alex or Moll.

 

With one more considering look, he takes a step back and looks to her left, where the other four passengers of the carriage would be, feeling slightly silly as he barks to the nonexistent characters, “Turn your backs!  Have a care for this lady’s modesty.  Turn your backs and close your eyes.”

 

After assuming they have done so, Matt turns back to Alex and holds out his hand as he softly requests, “Come.”

 

As she places her small hand in his, he sees a smirk tug at her lips at his line, and he immediately knows that  _that_  is purely Alex.  Fighting to keep a blush from spreading, Matt leads her to the opposite end of the room as if he were leading her out of earshot from the others.

 

“So,” he starts, “Do you despise me now?”

 

“No!”  She immediately exclaims, “A man must be a man.”  And with that, Alex gives him a smile that is filled with such joy that his heart stutters.  For that one second, he foolishly wishes he was Jemmy- just so he could have the love that Moll so willingly gives him.

Closing some distance between them, she looks at him with darkened eyes as she all but purrs, “Will you not search me, sir?”

 

His mouth tilts into a smirk as he asks, “Why?”  And then one hand is on her waist and his heart is racing as he becomes bolder with the help of his temporary character, his other hand running lightly up her side to brush against the side of her breast, his thumb sweeping outward over the swell- as specified by the script- as he asks, “What do you conceal there?”

 

To his surprise, his voice is unusually rough, and he can feel Alex’s heart beat faster as she breathes out her line.  “Whatever you find there you are welcome to,” she gasps as he gives a slight squeeze, “It is yours.”

 

The hand on her waist slides daringly around her back, moving lower over the curve of her bum as he pulls her into him, “And here?”

 

“Yours,” she declares breathlessly.

 

Suddenly, he wants to press his lips against hers until the need to breathe forces them to part, and he thinks she just might let him.  But he doesn’t want to kiss her as Jemmy and Moll, he wants to kiss her as Matt and Alex.

 

The thought pulls him from the mindset of his character, and gone is his boldness as he feels heat rising to his cheeks.  Matt moves his hands to rest at her hips, and he licks his suddenly dry lips as he hesitantly meets her gaze and confesses quietly, “I want to kiss you.”

 

“I’m not stopping you, darling,” Alex whispers, and he smiles at the term of endearment that he likes to think is his and his alone.  Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her flush against him.  When their lips meet he hears her sigh into him, and suddenly he feels as light as air with her being the only thing to keep him grounded.  Her tongue searches out his and  _oh_  she tastes better than he could have ever imagined- like tea and lipstick and something so uniquely  _Alex_.  It drives him to kiss her harder, pushing her against the wall and smiling against her lips at the small hum of approval she makes.

 

Her fingers bury themselves in his hair and she presses every inch of herself against him, as if trying to get closer, but he thinks the only way for that to be possible would be for them to crawl beneath skin until they are bone to bone, and in this moment, as they kiss each other for all they’re worth, even that may not be close enough.

 

When the need to breathe forces the kiss to come to an end, he looks at her to find her cheeks beautifully flushed, her lips swollen and her eyes so dark that suddenly a kiss no longer seems like enough.

 

But the moment is lost as the phone rings loudly, startling them apart.

 

XxX

 

Alex slips from between Matt and the wall and answers the phone before it has the chance to give another harsh ring.  The voice that greets her from the other line is the very last voice she wants to hear- it’s her husband, calling about the folder of divorce papers he came home to.  The anger that lines his voice causes her to tense, and a sudden rage begins to boil within her because what right does  _he_  have to be angry with  _her_  when he’s the one who’s been spending his nights in the bed of another?

 

“I don’t have time to talk about this right now, Ralph.”  Her voice is cold as she cuts him off, turning to look at Matt as she speaks.  Even as her soon-to-be ex-husband’s voice rings in her ear, she can’t help but smile at Matt as he focuses intently on anywhere in the room except her, pretending he can’t hear her conversation.  His hair is a mess and her lipstick is smeared across his lips, and something about that gives her the possessive urge to just mark him  _everywhere_  with her lips, teeth and tongue.

 

Her husband’s sharp voice snaps her from her thoughts as he asks if she’s even listening to him.  Making a sudden decision, she answers, “I told you I don’t have time for this.”  Before he can respond, she hangs up the phone and yanks the cord from the wall, eliminating any chance of him calling her back.

                                                                                                                                            

Whether she wants to admit it or not, her heart is broken, and all she wants is someone to hold her without her having to commit to anything.  And Matt is young-  _so_  young.  Which makes him perfect really, because he can’t possibly be looking for anything more than a good shag.

 

So with that in mind, Alex closes the distance between her and Matt in a few short strides, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and hauling him into a fierce kiss.  His hands delve into her curls, his fingers tangling with her strands of hair as she kisses him for all she’s worth and he returns it with just as much passion.

 

When she pulls back, he’s looking at her like he’s never wanted anything more and it causes her heart to stumble.  No one has  _ever_  looked at her like that, and it should scare her, but it only makes her want him more.  Heat spools in her belly at the thought of getting him in her bed, and suddenly both of them are wearing far too much clothing for her liking.

 

With a shove, his jacket is off his shoulders and falling to the floor with a soft thump.  “Bedroom,” Alex whispers as she places her hands on his chest and pushes him backwards in the direction of her room.

 

Matt stumbles as he’s backed into her room, and she laughs, clenching her fingers around the fabric of his shirt to keep him steady.  This time when she kisses him, it’s slow and languid with a smile on her lips and something about it warms her heart.

 

When Matt pulls back, he looks at her in askance, his fingers at the hem of her shirt.  In answer, she raises her arms over her head, her heart suddenly thundering under her ribcage in anticipation.

 

Slowly, he drags her shirt up her body and pulls it over her head and off her arms, letting it drop to the floor.  After ridding him of his shirt as well, Alex gently pushes him down onto her bed.  Quickly she pushes her jeans down her legs and steps out of them, and just as she’s reaching behind to unclasp her bra, he grabs her hand and pulls her to stand between his legs.

 

Matt grins up at her, a boyish smile that contrasts with the desire that darkens his eyes, and she can’t help but smile back.  He leans forward to press soft kisses along the edge of her bra, over the swell of her breasts, sending electric shocks through her with every touch of his lips against her skin.  Her fingers run lazily through his hair as he reaches around and fumbles a moment with the clasp of her bra before sliding the straps slowly down her arms and tossing it to the floor.

 

His fingers ghost up back up her arms before trailing lightly over her breasts, her nipples immediately pebbling at his touch.  Alex gasps as his mouth closes over one peak, pulling the hardened flesh into his mouth as he tweaks and pulls at her other nipple with his fingers.  Fire sears along her bones and burns straight to her center as she arches into his touch, her fingers tightening in his hair.

 

An ache builds between her thighs, and suddenly this isn’t nearly enough.  She needs  _more_.

 

Alex pushes Matt back until he’s lying down and she crawls up after him, settling with her knees on either side of him.  Her fingers sift lightly through the barely-there dusting of hair on his chest, and she can feel the bulge in his trousers pressing against core.  With a roll of her hips, she elicits from him a groan that sends a shiver racing down her spine, and she thinks that she’d like to hear that same noise on repeat until he lets go and shouts her name.

 

Grinding slowly against him, she leans downs to whisper in his ear, “I  _can’t wait_  to get you inside me, to have you buried so deep within me that I can’t tell where you end and I begin.”  A smug smile crosses her lips as she hears his breath stutter, and she takes a moment to press a kiss just behind his ear before continuing, “I bet you’re just  _aching_  to fill me.  To feel how tight I am around you, and to hear your name on my lips as I come.”  She pauses again to lick at the shell of his ear, her breasts brushing against his chest as she continues to move, “And I’m a screamer, did you know that,  _darling_?”  Alex purrs out the term of endearment as she pushes her hips down harder against him, and he makes a choked noise before gripping her waist tightly.

 

“Alex, god, you have to stop.”  His words are strangled and sound more like a plea than a demand, and she smiles, stilling her hips.

 

With a light brush of her lips against his, she gives him her best innocent voice as she asks, “Stop what?”

 

“ _Teasing_   _me_.”  He grinds out as his hands trail down her bare back to dance around the lace edging of her knickers.  “But I forget.  You  _like_  to tease me, don’t you?  You  _like_  making me stumble over words and you  _like_  making me blush.  You even like standing so close to me that I worry you’ll be able to hear how fast my heart is pounding at just your closeness.  You like it because you  _know_  that all I want in those moments is to push you onto the nearest surface and- and- and,”

 

He stops, searching for the right way to say it, but she doesn’t want a modified version of his thoughts, she wants him to say it, to hear the word come from his lips. 

 

“And what, darling?  Say it.”  She coaxes softly, and he flushes.  Alex presses a kiss to his chin before demanding softly, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

 

Matt runs his hands over the curve of her bum, squeezing gently before meeting her gaze with a new determination and answering, “I want to fuck you.”

 

His voice is rough with want, making the word sound absolutely filthy, and it sends shivers crawling across her skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

 

“Then I suppose this is your lucky night, darling.”  Alex whispers before kissing him, her tongue twining with his as she thinks that she is absolutely going to _wreck_ him.

 

Suddenly Alex pulls away and moves off of him to stand and shimmy out of her knickers, overcome with an irrational sense of urgency because she just needs him inside of her  _right now_.  Matt fishes in his pocket for a condom and pulls it out as he toes off his boots, Alex already starting on the button and zip of his trousers.  With a soft tug she pulls them and his pants down his slim hips and off his legs, humming approvingly when his erection springs forth.

 

A smile crosses her lips at the sight of his striped socks, and she takes time to kneel and roll them from his feet before standing and taking in the sight before her.  Matt is laid out on her bed, eyes dark, pale skin flushed and his erection straining toward her.  Just as she’s thinking it’s a sight she could get used to, he holds his hand out to her and something about it makes her heart melt.

 

Placing her hand in his, she crawls back onto the bed and settles on the tops of his legs.  With her other hand, she takes the condom packet from him and tears it open with her teeth, not yet wanting to take her hand out of his.  Slowly, she rolls it over his cock before stroking him teasingly and leaning down to press a kiss to the latex-covered tip.

 

With a whimper, Matt pulls at her hand, and taking the hint, she crawls further up his body until she’s hovering over his length.  Her fingers still laced with his, she meets his gaze and sinks down on him, both crying out as he is completely sheathed within her.

 

For a moment, she stays completely still, her only thoughts on him and how perfectly he fits with her.  Never before has she felt so full, so  _complete_ , and the thought has tears stinging behind her eyes.  Suddenly feeling ridiculous, she shakes away the thought and braces her free hand on his chest, her fingers splaying out across his skin, and finally  _moves_.

 

Matt moans beneath her, his hand gripping at her hip tightly.  “You feel  _amazing_ ,” he gasps out, and she smiles at the look of utter pleasure that has taken over his face.  She can’t help but feel more than a little proud that  _she’s_  the reason for that look.

 

His grip on her tightens as she moves faster above him, his fingers digging into her flesh, and she finds herself hoping that she’ll have finger-like bruises there in the morning.

 

Still using one hand to keep balanced, she pulls the other from his hand to rub harshly at her clit, wanting to be with him when he flies over the edge.  She moans and suddenly Matt’s hand is there as well, his fingers sliding over hers and through her slick flesh.

 

“Show me, Alex,” he demands softly, his voice rough and strangled, “Show me how to please you.”

 

With the rest of his fingers sprawled over her abdomen, she presses the pad of his thumb against her clit and lets out another moan.  As he flicks his thumb furiously over her swollen bundle of nerves, Alex throws her head back and pants out, “ _Yes_ , Matt.  There.   _There_.”

 

Her orgasm hits her like a freight train, thrills of hot, electric pleasure shooting through her as her cunt tights around him, his name torn from her throat.  Matt is right behind her, shooting up to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck as his release washes over him, her name falling from his lips like a litany.

 

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms and only moving enough to exchange soft, lazy kisses.  When she does finally climb from his lap, he quickly disposes of the condom and then lies as close to her as he can get, pressing a soft kiss to her brow as he wraps her in his arms.

 

When he asks if she wants him to leave, Alex knows she should say yes.  Her brain is telling her that she should kick him out of her bed this instant, but her heart and her mouth are traitors, so as she curls into him she answers quietly, “Don’t you dare.”


	5. I never meant to get us in this deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wakes almost every morning to his ridiculous face, and it makes it hard for her to pretend not to care. But she’s learned that caring can only bring heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from The One That Got Away by the Civil Wars
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read and comment on this faskjdfh

Eventually, this thing between them, whatever it is, ends up traveling outside the walls of her flat, though she has no one to blame for that but herself.  After a week of him playing substitute in the lighting department, they promote him to being a permanent member, so from then on out he’s present for every scene that she does.

 

Matt being that close to her as she’s stripped bare in front of cameras just _does_ _things_ to her.  He watches her every movement with a darkened gaze that sends shivers down her spine and brings forth recent memories of his talented tongue between her thighs, or the way he cautiously bent her over her kitchen table for the first time, or how he growls in her ear when he’s nearing orgasm- a low sound that makes her very bones quiver.

 

So who can blame her really, when the cast and crew are given a short break and she immediately takes him by the hand and drags him to her trailer to satisfy a need that only he seems capable of taking care of.  Though more often than not she doesn’t make it that far, pulling him into the nearest supply closet and immediately sinking to her knees, taking him in her mouth to hear the wonderful noises he makes and feel the sting at her scalp when his fingers bury in her curls and pull too hard.  Or sometimes it’s _him_ dragging _her_ by the hand, pulling her into a currently abandoned set and having his way with her in one of the prop carriages or on a dining table used in a dinner scene.

 

It’s thrilling, really, the knowledge that someone could walk in on them at any moment.  It’s reckless.  But recklessness seems to be the cure for the sadness that suddenly creeps up on her at various times through the day, reminding her of a failed relationship that wasted over a decade of her life. 

 

Soon enough this thing between them becomes so routine that she doesn’t bother with asking him over anymore after they wrap for the day.  Matt just shows up at her door like it’s an unspoken agreement between them.  But for two people who aren’t in a relationship, it should feel more awkward, or there should at least be some uneasy tension.  But there’s not, and that is what bothers her.

 

She wakes almost every morning to his ridiculous face, and it makes it hard for her to pretend not to care.  But she’s learned that caring can only bring heartbreak.  And now, as they lay tangled in her sheets, and he’s at that point of almost-sleep with his arms wrapped around her as if he never wants to let go, she reminds herself that nothing could make anything between them grow into something more.

 

He’s fifteen bloody years her junior,  _so young_ , and surely he has no thoughts of settling into a monogamous relationship so early in life.  And even though she’s been trying her best to hide it, she’s still hurting. 

 

As she looks at Matt, she’s suddenly overcome with guilt- she had pulled him into her bed as her rebound, taking her pleasure and expecting no strings to be attached.  Though he may not realize it, he’s wasting his time with her, and the thought of just stringing him along, regardless of his intentions, makes that aching within her chest only grow.

 

When she finally pulls herself from her thoughts, she finds Matt watching her, a slight frown on his face. 

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

She pauses before easily lying, “Just thinking about how I’m going to have to move into a permanent flat after filming ends.”

 

Playing with the ends of her hair, Matt suddenly can only look anywhere but her face as he suggests, “You could…you could just move in with me.”  With one glance at her shocked face, he quickly stammers out, “I mean for only a little while.  If you want.  I mean it’s a small place, but it’s big enough for two and it’d be a lot easier than trying to find time with your schedule to go out and find a place, you know?”

 

“Matt, I-”

 

“Just think about it,” he pleads.

 

Wait.  Hadn’t she just all but convinced herself that whatever is going on between them is wrong?  But now here she is, her resolve quickly crumbling as she looks at those puppy eyes that make her want to punch him and snog him all at the same time.

 

After a moment she asks, “Does it have a garden?”

 

Matt grins, making her stomach do a weird flip-flop at how happy he looks at her just considering it.  “There’s this small fenced in area in the back.  That could work, right?”

 

Chewing nervously at her bottom lip, she  _knows_  that this  _cannot_  be a good idea.  But she wants it, wants  _him_.  If only for a little longer- even if it’s possibly the most reckless decision she’ll ever make. 

 

“Okay,” she breathes out quietly, ignoring the thought that it’s the recklessness of it all adds appeal.

 

“Okay?!”

 

Alex laughs, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.  “Okay.”

 

XxX

 

Cardboard boxes litter the living room floor, and Matt heaves out a sigh as he places the next to last one on an already leaning stack of boxes.  Alex is right behind him, dropping the box in her hands none too gracefully onto the floor as she triumphantly exclaims, “Last one!”

 

With a smile, she grabs his collar and hauls him into a kiss that he can barely return for the grin that’s been pushing at his cheeks all day.  Alex is moving in today.

 

_Alex_  is really, properly moving into  _his_  home with  _him_.  He could just dance around in a circle from happiness, but he doesn’t because, well, he is aiming to be  _mature_  after all.

 

“You shouldn’t try so hard, you know,” Alex says with a fond smile as she pulls back.

 

When he gives her a confused frown, she rolls her eyes and explains, “You’re holding back.  I can tell.  Haven’t quite figured out why, though.”

 

Matt shrugs sheepishly.  “I just…don’t want to run you off before you even get unpacked because I’m being, you know… _me_.”

 

“And by that you mean hopelessly clumsy and just absolutely ridiculous most of the time?”

 

He gives her a look equivalent to that of a kicked puppy and she chuckles, “I just so happen to find those specific traits insanely endearing and charming all at once.  Lucky you.”  She gives him a playful smile and he immediately brightens.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” Alex assures him as she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Not yet.”

 

And with that, she’s settling herself on the floor in front of a box, box knife in hand to get it open.  Grabbing a second knife, he plops down next to her and grabs a box of his own to open.

 

A comfortable silence settles as they open box after box, and it’s one of those things about them that he loves.  They have these moments when neither one of them have anything to say because nothing  _needs_  saying.  And it doesn’t create awkward tension or the feeling that a conversation needs to be started- it’s simply them just enjoying each other’s company.

 

But of course that’s all ruined when his box knife decides that it likes his hand more than the box.  And then Alex is pulling him into the kitchen, saying something along the lines of  _whose idea was it to give_  you  _a sharp object, anyway?_

 

She gives him a concerned, but exasperated look as she turns on the tap and makes him put his bleeding hand under the running water.  With a kiss to his cheek, she demands that he stays there before she rushes off to his bathroom.

 

There’s the sound of her rummaging through medicine bottles, cursing, a crash, louder cursing, the sound of victory, and then she’s back, a roll of bandaging tape in her hand.

 

“Let me see,” she says, pulling his hand from the water and closely inspecting his wound.

 

“It doesn’t really even hurt.”

 

Brow arched, she purses her lips as she glances up at him.  “Is that because you’re so used to hurting yourself that you just don’t feel it anymore?”

 

Matt gasps in mock offense.  “Rude!”

 

Repressing a smile, she begins to bandage up his hand.  “You’re impossible.”

 

“You like it.”

 

“Still haven’t figured out why.”

 

He  _knows_  she’s only teasing, but the words make a lump form in his throat.  “I haven’t figured out why you do, either,” Matt says seriously and her playful smirk drops at his tone.

 

Alex presses a kiss to his covered palm as she finishes with the bandage.  “We…we just sort of  _fit_ , you know?  And I like that.”

 

His hands cup her face and he grins at her.  “I like that, too.”

 

He loves that when he kisses her, she immediately responds, her arms looping over his shoulders as she presses all of her soft curves against him.  It makes him kiss her harder, his arms moving to tighten around her waist as if he doesn’t ever plan to let her go for fear that one day she’ll decide she’s had enough of him and leave.  And he doesn’t ever,  _ever_  want this to end.  Because how would he ever be able to move on from  _her_?  He knows in his heart that there is  _no one_  better for him than Alex, and he thinks he’d be completely lost if he ever had to let her go.

 

Alex tugs his bottom lip between her teeth as she pulls back, impatiently tugging at the hem of his shirt.  Getting the message, he lifts his arms and she pushes up his shirt until she can yank it over his arms and toss it to the floor.  In a second his lips are back on hers, their tongues returning to their dance as he presses her against the counter.  His fingers fumble a second with the button on her jeans before he gets it, pulling down the zip and pushing the material off her hips and down her legs, moving to kneel at her feet.

 

Her fingers thread gently through his hair as he skims his fingers lightly up the sides of her legs, pausing when he reaches her knickers to trace the lace edging.  The smell of her hits him as he nudges her legs apart and his mouth immediately begins to water because she smells  _delicious_.  A delicate little bow rests at the top of her knickers, and he finds it to be just the right size to take between his teeth, dragging the tiny piece of clothing down her legs to join her jeans.

 

Pressing his face between her thighs, he inhales deeply before slowly running his tongue up her sex, immediately eliciting a moan from her that causes his groin to tighten.  She tastes sharp and electric and with every lick and gentle nip at her most sensitive spot, her moans climb higher and higher until he has her  _begging_.

 

With her fingers curled tightly in his hair and a leg thrown over his shoulder, she rocks against his face, her eyes shut tightly, her mouth slightly open and her head resting against a kitchen cabinet.

 

“Matt,” she breathes, “ _Please_.  Darling, just-  _please_.”

 

His tongue darts out to flick just once more at her clit and she whines, pushing her hips toward him in a vain attempt to get him closer.

 

“You’re so wet, Alex,” he murmurs into the skin of her inner thigh.  “And I can  _feel_  how close you are.”  His fingers slip between her slick folds to slide over her sensitive flesh, her muscles jumping and contracting at the slightest touch, and he smiles at the way she immediately arches into his hand.

 

Alex groans in frustration and swears under her breath as he pulls back completely, denying her what she wants as he stands.  When he chuckles, she throws him a glare.  “I bloody hate you right now, Matthew.”

 

Gripping her hips, he lifts her so she’s sitting on the countertop as he responds, “No you don’t,  _Alexandra_.”

 

She gasps at the use of her full name and swats at his shoulder.  “Cheeky bast-”  But her insult is cut off by his kiss, his tongue slipping past her parted lips to find hers as he steps between her legs. 

 

There’s a ferocity and an underlying possessiveness in the way she returns his kiss, and he  _knows_  it’s because she tastes herself on his tongue.  It’s like a mark, a brand that says for the moment he is  _hers_.  And he  _loves_  that.

 

Her hips roll into his, pressing against his covered erection, and it causes him to groan into her mouth.  The heat from her all but sears through the material of his trousers, and the friction seems to send all of the warmth right to his groin where it coils and tightens until finally it’s just  _too much_.

 

“Jesus, Alex,” he chokes out as he pulls back, “You can’t- you have to  _stop_.”  His hands tighten at her hips, his fingers curling into her soft skin to get her to finally quit moving against him.

 

“Then get inside me, darling,” she demands, her fingers making quick work of his belt, and in seconds she’s letting out a contented hum as her small hand wraps around his aching cock.  Burying his face by her neck, he lets out a groan, temporarily lost in the sensation of the way her fingers stroke him, expert-like touches that make it difficult for him to think about anything else than her skin against his and the tingling burn that has begun to build at the base of his spine.

 

Her lips mouth as his neck, tongue flicking out to dart along his pulse point as he growls in realization, “I don’t have a condom.”

 

“Don’t care.”

 

And at the moment, with her hand pumping his length and her looking up at him with her green eyes so dark they look almost black, neither does he.  In one swift movement, he is finally,  _blessedly_ , inside of her, and he has to take a moment to compose himself because with all of her tight, silky heat around him, he’s amazed that he manages not to lose it right then.

 

With a gentle tug at his earlobe with her teeth, Alex whispers, “ _Move_ , darling.”

 

He doesn’t even bother with setting a rhythm, pulling out and slamming back into her at a frantic pace that soon has her moaning breathlessly in his ear.  Her nails claw at his back, a delicious pain that feels like fire crawling and prickling across his skin.

 

Mindlessly, he chants her name between telling her how amazing she feels and how she has  _no idea_  what she does to him.  Her words mingle with his, but as he thrusts into with abandon, he doesn’t register much more than the rough fabric of her shirt scratching lightly against his chest, her nails digging into his flesh and the sudden tightening of her inner muscles around him.  Then she’s bringing him with her as she topples off the edge, bright lights temporarily flashing across his vision as he spills inside of her.

 

Breathing heavily, he pulls out of her, but takes her with him as he drops to the floor, unable to stand any longer on his now wobbly legs and the cold tile a welcome to his currently overheated skin.  His arms find their way around Alex’s waist and she immediately curls into him, both of them content to stay right there for a little while longer.

 

XxX

 

“We’re almost an hour late,” Alex says with a glare at Matt as she steps out of the taxi.

 

“Don’t look at me like that!   _You_  were the one that decided to take a shower at the last minute,” Matt retorts, taking her hand in his and smiling inwardly at how their fingers immediately intertwine.

 

“Yes and  _you_  were the one who distracted me with the  _not_  showering.”

 

He grins smugly at her.  “Well I  _suppose_  I can take credit for that.”

 

With a fond roll of her eyes, Alex takes her hand from his and enters the pub that’s hosting the wrap party.

 

If the smile falls from his face, well it’s definitely  _not_  because he wishes Alex would be more open with  _them_.  He doesn’t want to call whatever this is a relationship, because really it doesn’t need a name or a definition.  All he knows is that he’s fallen way too far in such a short amount of time, and he’d like to be able to hold her hand whenever he wants or be able to kiss her whether there are a hundred people around or none at all.

 

As he follows Alex into the smoke filled pub and watches her disappear into the crowd, he knows that she just isn’t ready for that step, and he doesn’t want to try to force her into anything only to end up pushing her away.  If, at the moment, the only way he can have her is when they’re alone, well then he’s fine with that- it’s better than not having her at all.  And one day, he doesn’t know when, but  _one day_  she’ll realize that he makes her as happy as she makes him, and then they can put a name to  _them_  and he won’t have to feel like they’re hiding ever again.

 

Thinking that he’s starting to sound like an overly-sappy character from a romance novel, Matt settles in a booth near the back of the pub and watches as Alex dances with one person, then the next and the next on the dance floor.  As Daniel Craig takes her hands for the next dance and pulls her close, an uncomfortable feeling settles in his chest.  He’s never been the possessive type, and he doesn’t exactly have a reason to be now, but as Daniel lowers his mouth to her ear and whispers something that makes her laugh and swat at his arm, Matt can’t help but glower at the other man.

 

While he  _knows_  that Alex doesn’t want their interest in one another to be shared, he does.  Because then he could walk right over and pull her into a kiss that would tell  _everyone_  she is off-limits because she is  _his_.

 

The next song that starts up is a slow one, and while most of the people use this as the time to get another drink, Daniel only pulls Alex closer and it’s all Matt can do to keep from outright growling.  He knows he’s being irrational but, well,  _he_  wants to be the one dancing with Alex and whispering in her ear.

 

And why shouldn’t he be?

 

A decision made, Matt slides out of the booth and weaves through a few people before coming to a halt in front of them.

 

“Darling!”  Alex exclaims as she sees him, her smile lighting up her face.  Repressing a grin, Matt takes note of her flushed cheeks and the glass in her hand that’s a quarter full with a golden liquid.

 

Glancing at Daniel he asks, “May I cut in?”

 

With an arched brow, Daniel nods once before bowing elaborately and kissing the top of Alex’s hand, earning a roll of her eyes and a smile as he takes his leave.

 

“I was wondering if you’d ever come dance with me,” Alex says with a pout, draping her arms over his shoulders and just barely managing not to spill any of her drink.

 

“I didn’t know if you wanted to dance with me,” he confesses, his arms moving to wrap around her impossibly small waist as he sways to the music with her.

 

“Of course I want to dance with you, darling.  Or you know,  _dance_  with you.”  She gives him a suggestive smirk that she’s able to hold for all of two seconds before she bursts into giggles.

 

“How many of those drinks have you had, Kingston,” he teases and she frowns seriously at her glass, her brow knitting together as she thinks.

 

Laughing suddenly, she looks at him and admits, “I honestly don’t know.  People just keep putting them in my hand and they’re  _awfully_  good so I’m not bloody well gonna say no, am I?”

 

She smiles radiantly up at him and he can’t help but think how beautiful she looks, her dark curls twisting wildly around her face and over her shoulders, her skin flushed from the dancing and the alcohol, and her green eyes sparkling up at him.  He wants nothing more than to pull her closer and kiss her until she’s breathless, but he doesn’t, instead turning his face into her curls as they dance.

 

It’s well after two in the morning when they get back to his flat, both of them stumbling through the door.  Hand in hand they walk down the hallway to his bedroom, and to his credit he only trips over one box that has yet to be unpacked, receiving a giggle and sleepy smile from Alex.

 

Both of them are exhausted from the day, so after their clothes are shed, they slip between the covers and wrap around each other with nothing but the intentions of sleep.


	6. Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex lets out a sigh as she seals the audition tape inside of the mailing envelope, feeling like she’s all but locking in her fate along with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Yesterday by the Beatles
> 
> Thanks again for all the lovely comments- they make me ridiculously happy (:

Alex lets out a sigh as she seals the audition tape inside of the mailing envelope, feeling like she’s all but locking in her fate along with it.  Her agent had called a few weeks ago to tell her that he was sending her a script over along with the audition requirements, and for her to please,  _please_  just consider it- claiming that just because she auditions doesn’t mean she has to commit to anything.

 

The past two job offers she’s gotten had been immediately turned down, much to her agent’s confusion and obvious disappointment, so she had agreed to read over the script more out of obligation to him than want.  Don’t get her wrong, she  _loves_  her job, she really does- everything from the early morning call times, to having to sit in the hair and makeup department for hours on end, to the late shoots that run into early morning because it’s just not quite what the director is looking for.

 

But lately, all of the offers that come her way are an ocean and miles and miles away in America.  Her enthusiasm to take a job that far away is close to none.  She likes it here and she’s rather reluctant to leave- and her hesitation to take a job practically half the world away has absolutely  _nothing_  to do with the young, floppy haired man that she has somehow found herself living with.  No.  Not at all.

 

Matt has landed himself another job working as part of the crew on another film, and she had been grateful that when the package containing the script and other information had arrived, he had been at work- that way she could avoid questions she didn’t want to answer.

 

With dread, she had sat down with a cup of tea and began reading over the general summary of the show before delving into the script.  It turned out to be an American medical drama with more intertwining plot stories than she could count on one hand.  The character she would be auditioning for, Dr. Elizabeth Corday, has a strong personality with a very opinionated mind that is often voiced, and is simply unimpressed by the status of the other doctor’s around her, caring more about the skills presented in their work.  Despite herself, Alex falls half in love with the character before she gets through the first script.

 

So after a week of considering it, she gives in and tapes her audition, much to her agent’s delight.  But she doubts she’ll hear anything back anyway.

 

XxX

 

The thin material of her black stockings stretches as she pulls them up over her knees to where they stop at her thighs, the lace that runs around the edges lightly tickling her skin.  With a smirk, Alex slips on the tiny piece of material that barely deserves to be called knickers, and smiles as she twists in front of the floor length mirror to find that really, it covers nothing at all.

 

Her fingers latch together the clasps of the lace suspender belt, hugging it to her curves as if it were a second skin.  Lingerie has never really been something she’s enthused about, but now, as she fastens the suspenders to her stockings and slips into the sheer, black chiffon of her top that ties beneath her breasts and flows lightly out for the hem to rest just beneath her bum, she  _can’t wait_  for Matt to get home.

 

For a last touch, she applies the reddest lipstick she owns to her lips and slides her feet into a pair of shiny black stilettoes.  Giving an unneeded fluff to her curls, Alex looks herself over once more in the mirror and giggles suddenly as she thinks that if there were two of her, she would  _most definitely_  shag herself.

 

The oven gives a ding from the kitchen, alerting her that the cake she’s baking is done.  Her heels click lightly against the tile of the kitchen floor and, after grabbing an oven glove, she opens the oven and pulls out the rack holding the cake pan.

 

Just as she’s bending to test the cake to make sure it’s done, the door opens, announcing Matt’s return, and she smirks at her luck.  She swears she can  _feel_  his eyes on her not-really-covered arse the moment he enters the kitchen, and she almost lets out a triumphant laugh as she hears his bag promptly hit the floor.

 

Once satisfied that the cake is done, she straightens and plops the pan on the oven top, swiftly closing the door to the oven and tossing the glove aside.  Smirk in place, she turns to face a wide-eyed Matt and her smile turns smug when his jaw literally drops at the sight of her.

 

“Happy birthday, darling.”

 

He makes it to her in two quick strides, his hands reaching, but she dances out of his grasp.  “You know you’re not allowed to have your present until  _after_  you have cake.  Naughty.”  She gives him a cheeky grin and he’s on her in a flash, pressing her against the wall and pinning her hands above her head.  A small squeak escapes her, his sudden assertiveness taking her by surprise and sending heat flooding straight to her core as a shiver of delight runs down her spine.

 

“I think  _you’re_  being the naughty one, Kingston,” his voice low and rough as he whispers in her ear, “And it would be shame for me to have to spank  _you_  on  _my_  birthday.”

 

“Oh but darling, I  _like_  that.”

 

With a growl, he surges forward and kisses her hungrily.  It’s a bruising kiss of warring tongues, clashing teeth and harsh nips at lips.  It’s a battle for dominance that Matt easily wins when he grinds his hips against hers, letting her feel his hardness as he presses against her, and she has to pull away from the kiss as she moans with want.

 

Hooking a stocking-covered leg around the backs of his legs, she rocks her hips in time with his, beginning to mindlessly seek release as he mouths at her neck, occasionally licking at her skin and sending a new spark of pleasure through her each time he does.

 

“So stunning,” Matt pants against her skin, finally releasing her wrists to run his hands over her body.  Gripping her hips, he stills her motions- much to her disappointment- and steps back.

 

“Christ, Alex,” he says gruffly as his gaze slowly travels the length of her body.  “You look  _amazing_.”

 

His fingers trace the lace edges of her stockings before moving up and plucking at the suspenders, his mixed look of fascination and desire making Alex smile.

 

“I’m glad you approve, darling.”

 

With a grin and a swift, thorough kiss, he reaches for the tie on her top, but she immediately bats his hands away and pushes him back.

 

“ _After_  cake, remember?”

 

He outright pouts at her, and she laughs as she moves past him.  When she finds the cake still too warm to ice, she turns back to him with a dramatic sigh.  “Though I  _suppose_  we could make some sort of compromise.”

 

Repressing a smile at his hopeful grin, she holds out her hand to him which he immediately takes and all but drags her down the hall to his room.  His hands are on her the second the door closes, long fingers skimming beneath her top and setting her on fire as he pushes her against it and presses his lips against hers.  Alex moans into his mouth as he begins to grind roughly against her again, and all she wants to do is rip off his clothes, shove him to the floor and fuck him right there.

 

Instead, she backs him up until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he flops back onto it.  Grinning wickedly at him, she quickly undoes his belt, yanking at it until it’s loose enough to shove down his trousers and pants.  His hips immediately lift as she wraps her hand around the base of his already hard cock, her mouth watering at the sight of the thick veins and stretched skin.

 

Kneeling in front of him, she moves forward and slowly licks along the crease where his thigh meets in his groin, smiling inwardly when she hears his breath stutter.  Her fingers lightly stroke him, just small, teasing touches and when he groans she can’t tell if it’s from pleasure or frustration or both.

 

Stilling her hand, she leans forward again to swirl her tongue over his testicles, sucking lightly at the puckered skin.

 

“Christ, Alex,” Matt groans, propping up on his elbows so he can watch her properly.

 

Locking eyes with him, she runs her tongue up the underside of him and along the slit, loving the strangled noise of pleasure he makes.  His hips lift toward her, and when she envelops him with her mouth, moving down over his length, he swears.

 

Slowly, she pulls back up and then down again, setting a pace that she  _knows_  will drive him absolutely mad.  His long fingers bury in her curls, pulling and tugging, silently willing for her to go faster, but she only smiles around him and continues her pace as she presses his hips into the mattress to keep him from moving.

 

“Fuck.   _Alex_.  Your  _mouth_.  Oh god.”  Matt chokes out the words as she swirls her tongue around the head and along the slit before pressing it against the underside of him and swallowing down once again.  Forcing her throat to relax, she takes him as far as she possibly can, and when she swallows, he shouts and immediately sits up, his fingers tightening in her hair and sending tingles of pleasure through her as she backs off.

 

An ache begins to build between her thighs, and as much as she wants him inside of her, she opts to only quicken her pace.  Matt makes inarticulate noises above her as she slides her mouth over him again and again, and she’s only able to catch a few obscene words and her name.

 

His hips jerk when her teeth lightly scrape across his oversensitive skin, and she only hums around him when he incoherently gasps out, “Fuck, Alex, I can’t-”  And then she’s taking him as deep as she can once more, his hands fisting in her hair as he shouts, and she forces her throat to relax as he orgasms and she swallows.

 

His fingers uncurl from her hair and she releases him before standing and bending to give him a deep kiss, her hands cupping the sides of his face.  Pulling back, she smiles against his lips before whispering, “I do believe the cake should be ready to be iced.”  Before he tries to pull her onto the bed with him, she gives him a quick kiss and adds, “I’ll bring you back a piece,” as she walks away. 

 

Matt plops back onto the pillows, and as she steps out of the room she hears him mutter, “Best birthday  _ever_.”

 

XxX

 

Attempting to bury deeper in his coat, Matt follows Alex from booth to booth at the outdoor garden shop.  And really, who goes to an  _outdoor garden shop_  in bloody freezing  _November_?  But she had  _insisted_  that she go  _today_  because apparently the ‘ _pathetic excuse for a lawn’_  he has at the back of his flat ‘ _desperately needs help_.’

 

Alex turns to him as she places yet another seed packet into her basket, a soft smile gracing her lips.  “You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”

 

With a grin, he reaches out and takes her hand, intertwining his own cold fingers with hers as he answers, “Of course I did.”  And really, whether he’s about two minutes from turning into an icicle or not, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

“But I don’t understand how shopping for flowers  _today_  is going to do any good.  It  _is_  winter, you know.”

 

The corner of her mouth twitches as if she wants to smile.  “Different flowers bloom at different times, darling.  And it’s not winter until December.”

 

“Well it might as well be.  I’m nearly frozen.  And since you’ve drug me out here to a bloody  _garden shop_  of all places,  _you_ have to keep me warm.”  Before she has the chance to protest, he’s taking the basket from her hands and placing it on the ground.  With a grin, he circles his arms around her waist and pulls her into him.  When she tucks her head under his chin, he immediately turns his face into her curls, inhaling that same smell that is so generic and yet so uniquely  _her_ , a smell he thinks he’ll never get tired of- honey and vanilla.

 

Alex gives a small sigh.  “This is ridiculous.  We’re outside in the cold just  _standing_  here.”

 

“Your fault.”

 

“ _No_.  I came here for shopping, not standing.”

 

“Stop complaining, Kingston,” Matt says with a smile, beginning to sway them gently to a silent tune.

 

“What are you doing?”  Alex asks as he begins a soft hum that he only stops to answer, “I’m not ‘just standing,’ that’s what I’m doing.”

 

“You do realize we’re in a public place, right?”

 

“Shhh.  You’re ruining the moment.”

 

With a huff, she gives in and moves to drape her arms over his shoulders and turns her face into his neck as he continues to hum.  Despite her complaints, he feels her smile against his skin, and when he pulls back to twirl her under his arm she gives a delighted laugh before moving right back into him.

 

“You’re an idiot,” she comments softly.

 

He grins.  “But you like it.”

 

She hums in agreement, and he thinks he would be content with standing there for a little while longer, but then her hands slip under his shirt and the moment her cold fingers brush against his skin, he jumps back with a small yelp.

 

Alex laughs and gives him a smug grin as he glowers at her.  “We’re here for flowers,” she reminds him, but then gives him a suggestive smirk as she adds, “But the sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get home and I can warm you up in a much more fun way.”

 

Immediately he grabs her basket from the ground and shoves it into her hands.  “What are you waiting for, Kingston?  We have shopping to do.”

 

With a laugh, she turns away from him and moves to another booth, scanning the different array of flowers they have on display and deciding which she thinks would best fit the small area outside his flat.

 

Wandering to another booth, a packet with the picture of a large, round purple flower, catches his attention.  “What about this one?  I like this one.  It’s like…it’s like a fabulous, round  _ball_ ,” Matt says excitedly, moving to her side so she can see it. 

 

This time she can’t help the smirk that creeps along her lips.  “And you  _like_  fabulous round balls, darling?”

 

He glares at her and she giggles, returning her attention the packet.  “They’re Alliums.  And they bloom early summer.   _Not_  winter.  Put them back.”

 

“But I  _like them_ ,” Matt whines, glancing down at the picture before giving her his best pout.

 

Narrowing her eyes, Alex considers him for a moment before huffing and holding out the basket in silent defeat.

 

With a triumphant grin, he places the Allium packet with the rest of their soon to be purchased flowers and leans in to give her a swift kiss of thanks.

 

“I hate you,” Alex mutters, trying and failing to keep the fond smile from her face.

 

“You really don’t,” Matt retorts, his grin widening as he takes her hand and leads her to the next booth.

 

XxX

 

The tips of her fingers tingle from the cold as she packs another seed into the dirt, but she doesn’t really mind.  Be it scorching hot or bone-chillingly cold, she would never pass up the opportunity to garden.  The velvety feel of the cool soil as she sifts her fingers through it is always a welcome, a smile coming to her lips at the knowledge that soon she’ll see the tiny seed grow into something beautiful.

 

“Aren’t you cold?”

 

Alex jumps at Matt’s voice and is startled to find him standing over her, two steaming cups in his hands.

 

“A bit,” she admits.  “But I’m almost done.  Your ridiculously tiny lawn will be beautiful in no time, darling.”

 

“I didn’t see anything wrong with how it was before,” he mutters as he kneels on the ground beside her.

 

“It was nothing but a plot of overgrown weeds!”

 

Matt gives her a grin that says he was just trying to wind her up, and she glowers at him in return.  “Oi.  Don’t look at me like that, Kingston, or you won’t get your tea.”

 

Placing her dirt-covered hands on either side of his face, she leans in and gives him a kiss of apology.  When he grins at her, it’s that same smile that makes her heart nearly trip out of her chest because what she sees there is something she’s afraid to put a name to.  Not for the first time, she silently asks herself why she’s doing this to him- or why she’s doing this to  _herself_.  It was never supposed to go this far.  Getting attached was never apart of plan.  And now look at her- planting flowers and drinking tea, so utterly content that it hurts because eventually she will have to say goodbye, leaving a piece of her heart behind when she does.

 

When he places the cup in her hand she snaps from her thoughts and looks back at him.  Immediately she bursts into laughter because the dirt on her hands transferred to his face, leaving dark smudges on his cheeks- and of course he’s adorably oblivious.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” she says lightly, sipping at her tea and letting it warm her up, smiling over the rim at his confused expression.

 

It only takes a moment before he registers her dirty hands, and when he lightly touches at his face and feels the roughness of the dirt, he narrows his eyes and growls at her, that same low sound that makes her insides quiver.  Snatching her tea, he puts both of their cups aside and is immediately on her, pushing her onto the grass and mercilessly tickling her sides in revenge.

 

“Matthew!”  She shrieks in surprise before peeling into laughter and shoving at his chest in an unsuccessful attempt to get him off.  His fingers attack her most ticklish areas until he has her breathlessly pleading between her laughter.

 

“Matt stop,” she pants, shoving at his hands and giving another laugh.

 

“What are the magic words?”

 

“Please?”

 

He shakes his head, his hands relentlessly continuing to draw squeals and laughter out of her.

 

“Please, Matt!  I’ll do anything,” she promises and his hands immediately still.

 

“Anything?”  He questions, his eyes darkening as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from hers.

 

“Anything,” she breathes, her arms circling around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.  He tastes like his favorite mints and tea, and she immediately melts against him.  Just as she’s thinking that she really wouldn’t have a problem with him having his way with her right here, outside in the cold where a neighbor could easily hear them- a thrill shoots through her at the thought- the phone gives a shrill ring from inside.

 

It gives a second ring and Matt pulls back with a huff of irritation.

 

“I’ll be right back.”  Then he’s gone, and without his body over hers she realizes just exactly how cold it is.  Just as she’s sitting up, he’s back, his brow raised in confusion as he says, “It’s for you.”

 

Frowning, she stands and makes her way inside to the phone.  When she answers, her agent greets her happily, and the color immediately drains from her face because that’s his you-got-the-part voice.

 

Just as she predicted, he informs her that she did indeed get the part of Dr. Elizabeth Corday just as he  _knew_  she would.  He asks if she’ll take it, and she plays with the cord of the phone for a moment, a tight knot forming in her chest, before quietly answering, “Yes, of course.”

 

She can practically hear him bouncing with joy, but as he informs of her of when her plane leaves and when filming starts, all she wants to do is find a corner and cry.

 

When she finally hangs up, she looks up to see Matt standing in the doorway with a confused frown on his dirt-smudged face.

 

“What was that about?”

 

“Matt, we should talk,” she whispers, suddenly unable to look at his face as he immediately tenses at her words.

 

“Let’s go sit.”  She makes to move past him and into the living room, but he grabs her arm to stop her.

 

“I don’t want to sit, Alex.  I want to know what’s going on.”

 

From the sharp tone of his voice, she can tell that his guard is already up- and rightly so, she supposes.

 

Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she bites her lip and looks up at him.  “That was my agent.”  When he remains quiet, she continues, “I got a part in a medical drama I auditioned for.”

 

He pauses.  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

“It’s in America.”

 

At her words he immediately releases her arm as if she was burning him, and just that gesture feels like a slap to the face.  The betrayal he feels is showing plainly on his face, and she suddenly wishes that he  _would_  slap her- that  _has_  to be better than the way he’s looking at her now.

 

“Say something.”

 

“What do you want me to say?”  He asks, his voice sounding strangled.

 

“Something.  Anything.”

 

Silence stretches until he finally asks, “You know how when we were outside you said you would do anything?”

 

She nods hesitantly, looking up at him.

 

“Don’t go,” he pleads, “I know that’s selfish as hell for me to ask, but  _please_ , Alex.  Don’t go.”

 

“I have to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“ _Because_  Matt!  It’s my job!   _This_ ,” she gestures between them, “wasn’t going to last anyway!”

 

Hurt, he takes a step back.  “I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

 

Frustrated, she says something she immediately wishes she could take back the moment the words are out of her mouth.  “Well I do.  We- You- I just got  _divorced_  Matt.  I was still hurting.  You were the distraction.  That’s all.”

 

He shakes his head in denial.  “I don’t believe you.”

 

“Believe whatever you like, but my plane leaves tomorrow and I have to pack,” she says quietly before pushing past him, leaving him standing there as she goes to their room and pulls out her suitcase.

 

XxX

 

When he wakes in the morning, he nearly rolls off the sofa, having momentarily forgotten that is where he slept the night before.  And then he remembers  _why_  and his whole being aches because he had been hoping that it was all just a bad dream.

 

He hasn’t seen Alex since she went to pack, but as he looks at the door he sees a stack of boxes and a set of full suitcases and knows that she hasn’t changed her mind.  Hauling himself to his feet, he silently walks to the kitchen and finds Alex sitting at the table, her head in her hands.  Without a word, he takes the seat opposite of her, wishing that there was something he could say to make her stay.

 

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” she starts without looking up.  “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.  It may have started like that, but now…”  Matt reaches out and takes her hand in his as she trails off.

 

“I know.”

 

When she looks up, he can see his own sadness reflecting in her face.  After a moment, she stands and moves to his side of the table, sitting on his lap and burying her face against his neck as she wraps her arms around him.  Silently, he circles his arms around her waist and buries his face into her hair.

 

They remain like that until her taxi arrives, and once all of her things are crammed into the cab, they give goodbyes with strained smiles.  As she walks down the steps he suddenly realizes that this may be the last time he ever sees her, and he panics because he  _has_  to at least let her know.

 

“Alex!”

 

She stops, looking almost hopeful as she turns to him.  He falters and the words that come out aren’t the ones he was aiming for. 

 

“I’ll miss you.”

 

_I love you_.

 

Her face falls and she gives him a sad smile as she climbs the few steps back to him to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

 

“I’ll miss you, too, darling.”

 

And then, just as fast as she had come into his life, she’s gone.

 

He had decided the night before that he wouldn’t cry over this, over her- real men don’t- but as he reenters his flat and is greeted by loneliness, he can’t help the tears that slide down his face as he sinks to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted next Wednesday as I will be out for the weekend~


	7. There is no peace that I've found so far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week passes in a blur full of restless sleep, empty bottles and unanswered phone calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Set the Fire to the Third Bar by Snow Patrol
> 
> I arrived home a bit earlier than expected and it's still Sunday my time so I figured what was the point in waiting until Wednesday???
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading this fic *hugs for all*

The week passes in a blur full of restless sleep, empty bottles and unanswered phone calls.  It feels a bit like he’s on repeat, each day exactly the same and containing nothing but him slumped on the sofa staring mindlessly at the television that stays on the Food Network channel.  He’s glad that his filming job ended a week ago because he has absolutely no motivation to step outside his door.  His kitchen is bare of practically any food, he doesn’t bother with shaving and keeping his flat in a decent state of cleanliness no longer seems like a priority.

 

He doesn’t register the sound of his door opening or the light clicking of heels on his floor until his sister is suddenly standing in front of him, lips pursed, handbag perched on her arm and one hand on her hip.

 

“You’ve not answered any of my phone calls.”

 

“Hello to you, too, Laura,” Matt says glumly, turning his gaze back to the telly.

 

Plopping her bag onto the floor, she drops onto the sofa beside him, giving him a knowing frown until he sighs and finally looks at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

He huffs.  “ _Nothing_  is wrong.”

 

Her brow rises.  “You’re watching the bloody Food Network channel.  You haven’t done that since you hurt your back and found out you couldn’t go on to professional football.”

 

“It’s nothing, Lor.  Really.”

 

She scoffs and narrows her eyes, studying him for a moment before asking, “Having woman troubles?”

 

“No.”  He winces at his quick answer and when he risks a glance at her he finds her repressing that smug smile she takes on when she knows she’s right.

 

“So what’s her name?”

 

With a sigh of defeat, he answers, “Alex.”

 

“Attractive?”

 

“Bloody gorgeous.”

 

“How’d you meet?”

 

“I ran into her.  Literally.”

 

“Graceful.”

 

“That’s exactly what she said,” Matt says with a small smile.

 

“You love her?”

 

“Yes.”  His answer is immediate because he does, he really,  _really_  does.  And he mentally kicks himself every second of every day for not telling her- it could have been the one thing that kept her here.

 

“Not just your average bird, then?”

 

Matt laughs lightly.  “Definitely not.”

 

Laura hesitates before asking her next question. “…And she’s gone?”

 

The uncomfortable knot in his chest feels like it doubles in size as he nods wordlessly.

 

“Where?”

 

“America.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Giving her a tight smile, Matt slumps further into the sofa.  “See I think I have a perfectly good reason to watch the Food Network Channel, Laura.”

 

With a small hum of agreement, she kicks off her shoes and curls against him, and for the rest of the day they sit and watch episode after episode of competitive cooking and how-to’s.  He knows that her staying is her attempt to make him feel less lonely, and for a few hours it works.  He’s grateful that she doesn’t push him or try to “fix him” and instead just lets him mope it out.

 

For a while, at least.

 

In two months’ time, he’s gotten another job and feels like he’s back to normal in every way- except he doesn’t give any women a second glance and politely declines any who approach him with the idea of going out for the evening (and of course there’s the huge gaping hole in his heart, but he’d rather not acknowledge that).  Laura keeps trying to set him up on a blind date with this “great friend” she knows, but even if he was remotely interested in dating, he knows better than to get roped into that.

 

“I think you should take a holiday,” Laura comments one evening on the phone, and he can’t help but roll his eyes even though she can’t see.

 

“And why do you think that?”

 

“I dunno- I just- It’d be nice just to get away for a while, yeah?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well because,” she says evasively, and he knows if he could see her right now, she’d be tugging at one of her long strands of hair as she tries to come up with a plausible reason that isn’t the truth.

 

“Laura, I’m fine.  Really.  I don’t need to get away.”

 

She huffs.  “Yes you do, Matthew.  Taking a small break from everything around you might help you to um, you know…get over her or something.”

 

With a sigh, he gives a slight shake of his head.  “It’s not like that, Lor.  She was…she was different.  And she changed  _everything_.  She isn’t the kind you just  _get over_.”

 

“Well just  _think_  about it, okay?”

 

He pauses a moment before lying, “Fine.”

 

XxX

 

Over the next few months he begins to feel like he’s going mad.  Every time he sees a woman with dark curls his heart leaps in hope that it’s Alex, and occasionally he’ll hear her laugh as he’s walking down the street and have to stop and look around just to make sure she really isn’t there- she never is.

 

The holiday Laura wants him to take is never given a second thought until early June.  He swings open the door to his back garden and the sight that greets him is nearly enough to break his heart in two.  Every flower has closed in on itself due to the overly warm weather- except the Alliums.  Bright purple and perfectly round, they reach toward the sun and make his heart ache as he remembers thinking that Alex would never plant them- but she had.

 

Gingerly, he reaches out to touch the tiny tips of the flower, and then suddenly he can’t stand to look at them anymore.  They’re not just flowers- they’re a reminder.  A reminder he doesn’t want.  Making a sudden decision, he reaches down and grips the base of the Allium stem and rips the flower from the ground, roots and all.

 

After months of pretending that he’s okay, he finally lets the anger, betrayal and sadness he feels towards Alex bleed through as he snatches Allium after Allium from the ground.  His vision blurs with tears he doesn’t allow to fall, and after every last flower is pulled from its place, he purposefully walks inside, picks up the phone and dials his sister’s number.

 

XxX

 

Somehow Laura convinces him that Venice is where he should go, claiming that it’s a city full of magic, romance and beautiful women, and that before he knows it he’ll be asking, “Alex who?” 

                       

However, all of the immediate plausible dates interfere with his university schedule.  Having decided that he’d rather be in front of the camera than behind it, he has begun to pursue a career in acting, which he isn’t willing to jeopardize for a holiday.  So he schedules his trip for winter break and crosses off each day as they slowly tick by.

 

Soon enough he’s stumbling off the plane and into the cold December air of Italy.  Grabbing his two bags, he immediately rushes to get to the train that will take him to Venice, just managing to slip into the train car before the door slides shut.

 

Matt shuffles down the aisle until he finds an empty seat next to a woman who’s not paying him or anyone else a bit of attention, her focus on whatever’s outside the window.  Her wild, ginger-tinted blonde curls make his heart clench with sadness- it’s like he sees  _her_  everywhere he goes.  But he quickly shakes himself of the thought, silently berating himself for even thinking about Alex because the whole reason he agreed to this bloody holiday was so he would  _stop_.  With a huff, he slides his bags up into the overhead compartment and plops into his seat.

 

The woman next to him gives a quiet sigh and shifts in her seat as the train begins to move.  When she turns from the window, he glances over at her then immediately has to do a double take.  A lump immediately forms in his throat, stopping him from giving a laugh at the irony.

 

He had wanted to get away from all thoughts of her, and yet here she is- sitting right next to him.

 

Really, he had meant to keep that as a thought inside his head, but apparently he voiced it out loud because she immediately twists to face him, eyes wide.

 

Nothing about her has changed, save for the color and length of her hair- she’s still as breathtakingly beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on her, if not even more so now.  It makes his whole being ache because once upon a time this wonderful, stunningly gorgeous woman was  _his_.  And looking at her now, he realizes that he was so completely  _stupid_  if he ever thought his love for her had diminished in any way.

 

“Matt,” she says, her surprise apparent in her voice.

 

He tries his best to give her a genuine smile, but he can feel the strain at the corners of his mouth.  “Alex.”

 

Fate is never really something he’s believed in, but really, what are the chances of the woman he loves ending up in the same country, on the same train in the seat  _right next to him_  when she’s supposed to be miles and miles away in America?  Alex opens and closes her mouth as if to say something as he just simply looks at her, not knowing what to say and trying to sort out his feelings.  He can only pick out the love he feels for her, but from that stems self-hatred because she  _left him_ \- he doesn't  _want_  to love her.  Looking away from her, he sighs inwardly because he knows that he is blatantly lying to himself, but if he convinces himself that the love he has is unwanted then it hurts less.

 

“Matt,” she says again, and he nearly jumps when she gently places her hand on his arm.  Keeping his face blank, he looks back at her to find tears welling in her eyes that confuse him even more.  But then a brilliant smile blooms across her face and causes his heart to nearly stop because he had almost forgotten just how beautiful she really is.

 

“It’s wonderful to see you, Matt.”  For a moment he thinks that she  _has_  to be taking the piss, but she’s looking at him so earnestly and  _sod his heart to hell_  because despite everything, he only wants to pull her to him, press his lips against hers and tell her  _yes_   _and I’m_  so glad  _you’re here and I’ve missed you so,_  so,  _much_.

 

“Say something,” she says quietly, pulling him from his thoughts.

 

“What do you want me to say, Kingston?”  The name slips out without his consent, and he watches her eyes widen at his personal term of endearment, regardless that it’s simply her last name, before she admits, “I’ve missed that.”

 

“I’ve missed  _you_.”

 

“I’ve missed you, too.”

 

His heart clenches at her words because he almost thinks it would have been easier to hear that she hadn’t given him a second thought since she climbed into that taxi and rode away from him.  Because then he wouldn’t wonder what could’ve happened if he had been successful in keeping her with him.

 

“So how have you been?”  He asks awkwardly, not really wanting to hear the answer unless it’s something along the lines of, ‘simply awful without you.’

 

But instead she answers the exact opposite.  “Great.”  She pauses.  “And actually, I’m getting married soon.”

 

If souls could break, he thinks his would be shattered.  But  _honestly_ , did he think that she missed him so much she’d be willing to fall back into his arms and pick up from where they left?

 

Matt forces a smile and quickly lies, “That’s great.”

 

“Yeah,” she agrees, sounding almost as put out by it as he feels, but he figures his mind is only fabricating it to sound how he wants it to.  When he glances down, he notices that her left ring finger is bare and frowns.

 

“No ring?”

 

Following his gaze to her own hand, Alex gives a small shrug, “I just don’t like to wear it when I travel.  I’m afraid of losing it, I guess.”

 

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Matt almost wishes that he could be anywhere else than sitting here and talking about the woman he’s madly in love with preparing to wed a man that isn’t him.  He feels pathetic, but has no idea what else to talk about and finds himself only continuing the conversation he doesn’t want to have.

 

“So when’s the big day?”

 

“Next month sometime.”

 

“Next month  _sometime_?  What day?”

 

Alex flushes suddenly and glances away from him.  “I don’t remember the  _exact_  date.  The 17th or the 18th or something like that.”

  
When she looks back at him she finds him watching her with a skeptical frown and huffs.  “ _He_  picked out the date, not me,” she adds defensively.

 

“So what’s his name?”

 

“Florian.”

 

The laugh that escapes him is unstoppable.  “ _Florian_?  Seriously?”

 

For a moment she laughs with him before quickly schooling her expression and seriously arguing, “It’s a very manly name, Matthew.”

 

He only hums in response, smiling softly at her and still trying to wrap his head around the fact that after over a year of not seeing her she is actually  _here_ , sitting right next to him with a smile on her lips that he wants to steal with his own.

 

“So what about you?”  She asks, turning more towards him as she folds her legs under her and regards him with genuine curiosity.

 

Pausing for a moment, he has to mentally run through what he wants to say because he doesn’t imagine that  _oh I’ve only been relentlessly pining over you for a year, filling my time with the Food Network channel, work and school_  would go over well.

 

“Well I’ve started going to university for acting.”

 

Her brow rises.  “Really?  You’ll be brilliant, I’m sure,” she says warmly before hesitantly asking, “So have you found anyone serious?”

 

“Well I was pretty serious about one woman,” he answers evasively.

 

“Oh?  What’s she like?”  If she sounds a bit disappointed, well it must be his mind playing tricks on him again.

 

“Absolutely stunning,” he starts, watching as Alex tries not to let her tight smile slip before finishing, “But she left.  Went off to America to film some medical drama and took my broken heart with her.”

 

Her expression immediately softens.  “Matt, I-”

 

He cuts her off with a shake of his head, knowing that she’s going to try to give him some sort of excuse or apology that he doesn’t want.  “Don’t worry about it, Kingston.”

 

The rest of the train ride is full of awkward small talk and uncomfortable silences as they pointedly ignore the subject of their past.  It turns out that they both plan on staying in exactly the same hotel, and as Matt watches Alex try to retreat further into her seat at the information, he starts to ridiculously wonder if this is the universe at work. 

 

As another cloud of tension-filled silence hangs between them, Matt finds himself missing how every conversation they used to have was an easy one, and how every silence would never feel uncomfortable.  But now it seems that every word is forced and he hates it- there is no reason why they shouldn’t be able to have a decent, civilized conversation.

 

Eventually their destination is announced and the train slows to a stop.  The heavy silence continues as they exit the train, but it quickly ends once he trips off the train and onto the pavement, very nearly falling.  He’s saved by Alex forcefully grabbing a hold of the back of his shirt, and when he turns to give an awkward thanks, he finds her stifling a laugh behind her hand.

 

“It’s not funny, Kingston!”  Matt exclaims, a grin spreading across his face as she adjusts her expression into an obviously-forced frown.

 

“Of course it isn’t, darling.”  He’s not even sure if she used the term of endearment on purpose or if it just slipped out, but he doesn’t care because his heart immediately blooms with warmth at the familiar name that he didn’t realize he missed so much until just now.

 

After that, their conversations ease back into what used to be their normal, full of cheeky comments and playful banter.  Together they walk to their hotel and he can’t help but wonder if at the end of this holiday his heart will be even more damaged than when he started.

 

XxX

 

As soon as her hotel door shuts behind her she lets out a breath that she feels like she’s been holding since Matt sat down next her on the train.  Her mind is racing because out of all the people of the entire world  _Matt Smith_  was the one that took the empty seat next to her.  Wonderful, ridiculous, clumsy, sexy-as-hell Matt Smith.

 

She has a Pandora’s Box of sorts, and shoved in her box is all of her feelings towards Matt.  The day she left she sealed it up and vowed to never open it again.  She even moved on and met Florian.  Well, she was actually rather shoved into it and met him on a blind date, but he’s nice and makes her happy enough.  He can provide her with stability, and hopefully with the family she’s always wanted- and that’s all she needs, right?

 

But today, with one look at Matt’s warm hazel eyes, floppy hair and crooked grin, her Pandora’s Box was opened and all of those stifled feelings were released.

 

As she tosses her suitcase onto her bed and begins to unpack, she can’t help but think how different Florian is from Matt.  Everything from his closely cropped hair to his ever-present business-like attire, Florian is the complete opposite from laid-back, floppy-haired Matt, and she wonders if that is one of things that about Florian that appealed to her.  Despite the fact that she had been going through the disintegration of her first marriage, Matt had stolen her heart.  He had literally fallen into her life and became everything she never realized she wanted.  And that scared her.  He was  _so young_  - around the same age she was when she first met Ralph- and though he seemed completely happy at the time, how would he feel in five years?  Ten years?  Would it turn into another loveless relationship that leaned heavily on secrets and lies?

                                                                 

In all honesty, she had been completely terrified that that would be  _exactly_  what would happen.  So she had run miles and miles away and into the arms of another man.  And now, as she pulls the small, black velvet box from her bag and opens it to stare at engagement ring, she wonders if she’s only settling because she’s scared to pursue what she really wants.

 

A knock at the door jerks her from her thoughts and she hastily stows the ring back in her bag before answering the door.  Of course Matt is the one standing there, rocking on the heels of his feet- a tell-tale sign of nervousness- and wearing the same smile he used to always give her- the one that melts her heart and makes her feel like she is the most important thing in his life.

 

Oh, this could be bad.

 

Very,  _very_  bad.

 

“Kingston!”  He greets.  “Dinner?”

 

No.  Definitely  _not_.  She’s here to have some time to herself, not to confuse her heart by being around Matt.

 

“I didn’t mean as a  _thing_ ,” he amends at her hesitation.  “I just meant- you know- just…just dinner.”

 

Scratching awkwardly at the back of his head, he looks shyly up at her through his fringe and it makes her smile.  But the answer should still be no.  This is a very dangerous game she could get herself into and her heart is on the line.  She couldn’t just go off to dinner with him and pretend like there was,  _is_ , nothing between them.  So ‘no’ should  _definitely_  be the answer.

 

“Okay.” 

 

Fuck. 

 

Somehow, without her consent, her ‘no’ morphed into a ‘yes’ in the short time it took to get from her brain to her mouth.  

 

“Just give me a minute to change,” she says, silently scolding herself for yet again making decisions with her heart.

 

“I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Matt states with a grin, and then he’s gone, leaving her to close the door and wonder what the bloody hell she is getting herself into- again.

 


	8. You are my sweetest downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briefly, she thinks that meeting another man in the dress that her soon-to-be-husband bought /has/ to be a bad decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Samson by Regina Spektor
> 
> I'm going to be away (again) until Friday, so I figured I'd update before I left since I wouldn't be able to do so Wednesday. And also I was threatened with boiling hot tea.
> 
> I didn't have time to look over this chapter once more, so I apologize for any mistakes

As she watches the lift slowly count from the fourth floor to the lobby, she runs shaky hands over her dress, nervously smoothing down the material for the hundredth time since she’s put it on.  Initially, she had planned on wearing something casual, but as she rummaged through her suitcase for a blouse, she came across the black dress that her fiancé bought and specifically asked her to wear the very same night he proposed.  “Beautiful,” was the word he used the first time she wore it, a brilliant smile on his face.  That same word was the one that taunted her this evening until she finally gave in and put it on.

 

Briefly, she thinks that meeting another man in the dress that her soon-to-be-husband bought  _has_  to be a bad decision.  But if she’s honest with herself, she wants to see Matt’s face when he sees her in it.  The longer she thinks about that, the worse of an idea it seems because  _what is she doing_?  Why should she care about  _Matt’s_  opinion?

 

She closes her eyes, sighing inwardly and  _hating_  that she knows the answer to her own question.  “Stupid,  _stupid_  Alexandra,” she mutters, stepping out of the lift as the doors slide open and reveal the lobby.

 

Suddenly she feels grateful for dressing up because Matt is standing near the reception desk, fiddling with the untied tie of his  _three piece suit_.  In all of the time she spent with him, she  _never_ saw him in a suit.  He looks  _sexy as hell_  and suddenly all she wants is to push him onto the reception desk, climb on top of him and- wait.  No.

 

_No._

 

Those thoughts are strictly forbidden.  What the hell is wrong with her?  She’s getting  _married_  soon- and not to Matt.

 

He must feel her watching him, because he suddenly looks up, the ends of the tie still held hopelessly in his hands.  The smile he gives her is enough to take her breath away, her heart giving a small stutter.

 

“You look stunning, Alex,” he says softly when she reaches him, an underlying sadness in his eyes reflecting exactly how she feels.  Despite herself, she wishes that she were on this holiday _with_  Matt, and that they were going to dinner  _together_ , both of them secretly ready to get back to the hotel room as quickly as possible so they can spend the rest of the evening behind a locked door and between sheets.

 

But she had made the decision to leave him and all of that behind a long time ago, and even though she has these moments when she wishes she hadn’t, she  _knows_  it was the right decision.  A future with Matt is an unpredictable one, and her heart is too fragile to go into another relationship that could potentially end the same way her first marriage did.  At least Florian gives her a sense of stability- and with him she can practically map out how their lives will turn out.  And that’s what she wants.  Security.

 

So if all she can have with Matt is dinner as friends, well then she’ll take it and try to ignore all the feelings that could regrow into attachment.

 

“Thank you, darling,” she finally replies, “And you look quite dapper yourself, Mr. Smith.”  With a grin, he tugs proudly at the lapels of his suit jacket and bows dramatically for her.

 

She laughs and takes the tie still dangling from his hand, mumbling under breath how ridiculous he is.

 

“You like it, Kingston,” he replies confidently and she only rolls her eyes in response, yanking up his collar and looping the tie around his neck.  Delicately, she goes through the process of tying the tie, sliding the knot up when she finishes and refusing to acknowledge the fact that she is so close she can  _smell_ him- a heady mix of cologne, aftershave and mint.

 

Taking a step back, she inspects her work and gives a slight frown.

 

With a nervous glance at her, he adjusts the tie and hesitantly asks, “What?”

 

“I dunno- it just…it doesn’t  _feel_  right.”

 

Behind Matt, the man behind the desk moves, catching her attention and she grins at the pristine bow tie that adorns his neck.  Quickly, she pulls the tie from around Matt’s neck and approaches the hotel receptionist.  Leaning on the polished marble of the desk, she smiles prettily.  “Could I possibly have your bow tie?”

 

“Excuse me?”  He asks, his English heavy laced with the Italian accent of his first language.

 

“Your bow tie,” Alex repeats, holding out the tie in exchange.

 

For a moment, the man only stares incredulously at her before hesitantly removing his bow tie and placing in her hand.  Alex thanks him and turns to Matt, slipping the silk of the bow tie around his collar and tying it appropriately.

 

 Her fingers smooth over the end result and she hums in approval.  “Much better.”

 

“Well bow ties  _are_  rather cool.”  Matt states with a grin as he tugs happily at the ends of the bow.

 

Slipping her arm through his, she gives an exasperated sigh.  “Before I know it you’ll be telling me that something like  _tweed_  is fetching as well.”

 

“Oi!”  Matt exclaims in offense as they leave the hotel.  “I happen to own a tweed jacket, you know.”

 

She laughs.  “I should’ve known.”

 

They fall into the silence as they walk, towering buildings with old architecture on one side of them and a winding path of water on the other.  The setting sun gives off a soft glow, providing the illusion of warmth that seems out place with the frigid air.

 

“So do you actually have a place in mind, darling, or are we just wandering aimlessly?”

 

“Give me  _a little_  credit, Kingston.  I know exactly where we’re going.”  He grins at her and she can’t help but smile back, the arm looped through his moving down so she can take his hand as they continue down the street.  His fingers instantly thread with hers, and whereas that simple gesture used to bring a smile to her lips, it now brings tears to her eyes at the familiarity and the _rightness_  of it.

 

The dinner is the best she’s had in a long time, and she tells herself it’s only the excitement of being in a foreign city, but really she couldn’t give a toss about Venice at the moment- it’s her current company that makes everything seem better.

 

At the end of the meal, the conversation seems to somehow drift to her life in LA and the home that she and Florian share.  The entire subject makes her uncomfortable, and she fleetingly wonders  _why_.  Shouldn’t she be brimming with happiness at just the mere thought of her future husband and the lives they plan to lead?

 

If she knows the answer, she resolutely ignores it and instead answers all of Matt’s questions with what she hopes doesn’t seem like a forced smile.

 

“Does it have a garden?”

 

The question, as simple as it may be, widens the crack in her heart.

 

“It does,” she answers quietly, as if she doesn’t want to admit it.

 

“Of course it does,” Matt responds with a sad smile.  Suddenly, she finds herself wanting to tell him that she’s planted so many Alliums that in the summer when they bloom, they’ll probably overwhelm the rest of the flowers- and that the whole reason she planted any to begin with was because of  _him_.  But she doesn’t because that’s a secret only she needs to know.

 

Picking up her almost-empty glass of wine, she redirects the conversation to be about him and is grateful when he begins to enthusiastically discuss his newfound passion for acting.  The conversation picks up the comfortable-easiness that she’s used to, and for a while she can forget that anything is wrong at all.

 

But when they get back to the hotel and are standing outside her door, she has to quickly remind herself that something  _is_  wrong.    _This_  is wrong.  She feels like they’ve accidentally slipped back into how  _they_  used to be and all of it- the fancy dress, the dinner, the inappropriate thoughts, the hand-holding- is  _wrong_.

 

Again she has to remind herself that she’s getting  _married_.  But as Matt stands there- hands shoved in the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers, and wearing a smile that makes her want to all but swoon into him- the voice that tells her what is right and wrong begins to slowly fade away.

 

When he steps closer to her, an obvious intent in his eyes, the voice is completely lost, overpowered by her want as he gently tilts her chin up with his hand and presses his lips to hers.  It’s only a brief, soft touch of lips, but when he pulls back she suddenly feels dizzy- like she’s tumbling through air with no sense of which way is up or which way is down.

 

“Good night, Kingston,” Matt whispers against her lips, before giving her a slight smile and making his way down the corridor to the lift.

 

Feeling dazed, she stares after him for a moment before reaching in her bag for her keycard to unlock her door.  Just as she’s about to slide the card, the lift gives a ding, announcing its arrival, and she’s hit with the realization that Matt is about to go up to his own room-  _without her_.

 

She knows that the decision she’s getting ready to make is a stupid one, and one that she’ll probably regret later when she gets back on a plane to fly back to her waiting fiancé, but right now all she wants is Matt, and not even her brain screaming  _NO_  is going to stop her.

 

So with her mind made, she rushes down the hall and throws her arm out just in time to stop the lift door from sliding completely shut.  As it eases back open, she slips inside and briefly takes in the startled look on Matt’s face before backing him into a corner until her body is pressed against his and she’s kissing him as if her life depends on it.

 

He tastes like wine and those damn mints that she supposes he still loves, and she can’t help but smile against his lips at the familiarity of it.  Heat begins to build in the pit of her stomach as the kiss turns sloppy and hands start to roam, tugging at clothing until his jacket and her coat are suddenly on the floor.

 

Blindly, she fumbles with the buttons of his waistcoat before giving a growl of frustration and yanking at the fabric, sending a spew of buttons to pop and roll across the floor of the lift.  Matt chuckles and presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.  “Impatient, Kingston?”

 

“You have no idea,” she gasps in reply as he nips sharply at the skin of her throat.  Her hands shove at his waistcoat, and the lift gives a ding of arrival the moment it joins the other articles of clothing on the floor.

 

“I think I have  _some_  idea,” he argues, his voice low in her ear as he cups her arse and grinds the obvious bulge in his trousers against her, as if to prove his point.  She instantly rolls her hips back into his, secretly delighting in the strangled noise he makes and having to bite back her own moan. 

 

Her hands reach for the zipper at the back of her dress, fully prepared to shed it right there, but Matt stops her, his hand closing around hers.

 

“We can’t- not  _here_.”  Matt says, worriedly glancing at the surveillance camera in the corner of the lift.

 

“Not up for a little exhibitionism, darling?”  She asks teasingly, bending to pick up the pieces of clothing that litter the floor.

 

He immediately flushes, the tips of his ears turning red and she laughs lightly.  Even now she’s still capable of making him blush, and something about that warms her heart.

 

“Come on, darling.”  Alex holds her hand out to him, and for just one moment that voice is back, telling her to turn away from him, but as he places his hand in hers, eyes dark, but soft, and all but drags her out of the lift and down the corridor to his room, she can’t bring herself to listen.

 

As soon as the door to his room closes behind them, he has her against it, returning his attention to her throat as she yanks off his bow tie.  His shirt soon joins the bow tie on the floor and she hums contentedly as her hands finally find the bare skin of chest.

 

“Your turn,” Matt all but growls out, gripping the neckline of her dress and giving a forceful tug to rip it right down the middle.  She gasps as the fabric tears and is left to dangle at her sides as he kisses her harshly, all teeth and tongue.  His aggressiveness has her burning with want, and she can practically feel her skin humming as he pulls back and looks at her with eyes so dark they seem almost black.

 

Taking a half step back, his gaze travels over her body, and she can’t stop the heat rising to her cheeks.  He’s seen her in less than a bra and knickers before, so she feels a bit ridiculous now as she briefly worries if he still finds her as attractive as he used to.

 

“You are so beautiful, Alex,” Matt breathes as his fingers lightly trace from the edge of her bra to the tops of her lacy knickers.

 

The sincerity of his voice has tears prickling behind her eyes- anyone can give her a compliment, but no one ever says it quite the way Matt does, as if she’s honestly the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.  It makes her heart ache, but then all of her thoughts disappear as Matt’s fingers move between her thighs and press at her core through the material of her knickers.

 

Her head thuds back against the door as she lets out a moan at his touch that isn’t nearly enough.  Her knickers become slick with her arousal as he moves his fingers up to stroke at her clit, the fabric sliding along her flesh with each movement he makes.

 

“God, Alex, you’re so wet already,” Matt says, his voice heavy with desire.  She only hums in response, sharp gasps and whimpers escaping her at each hard press or rapid flick of his fingers that come few and far between his gentle touches.   Mindlessly, she begins to grind against his hand, seeking more fiction and thinking that soon she could come without him even having to properly touch her.

 

“Is that what you want, Alex?”  He asks gruffly, and she realizes she must have spoken aloud.  “You want me to get you off without even  _touching_  you?” 

 

As he speaks, he begins to rub furiously at her clit through the wet fabric, working faster and faster until he has her gripping tightly at his shoulders and crying out as her hips buck and everything begins to tighten and coil within her.

 

“Answer me, Alex.”  The demand is low and rough in her ear, sending shivers racing down her spine.

 

“No,” she gasps.  He immediately stops and she almost whimpers at the loss of contact before continuing, “I want you  _inside_  me, darling.  Please.  Just get inside me.”  Her fingers reach for his trousers, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zip before shoving them, along with his pants, off of his slim hips.

 

Batting her hands away, he tightly grips her hips and lifts her, pressing her hard into the door as her legs wrap around his waist.  His erection nudges insistently at her core, and she almost groans at the thought that the only thing keeping him from being inside her is the thin material of her soaked knickers.

 

Her hips rock against his, the rough lace rubbing against his cock, and she can’t help the smug smile that comes to her lips as he swears.  Pushing the majority of her weight against the door, he balances her with one arm, fingers digging into the flesh of her arse as he uses the other hand to push aside the fabric of her knickers.

 

Briefly, she thinks she can already feel bruises forming on her bum- she really shouldn’t like that as much as she does- but then any thought is lost as he presses into her, suddenly filling her in the most delicious way.  For a moment he remains still, his forehead resting on her shoulder and his breath hot on her skin as her inner muscles stretch and flex to accommodate him.

 

“You feel amazing, darling,” she breathes, her fingers moving to bury in his hair and curl against his scalp.  He drops a soft kiss to her shoulder in response, lifting her a bit higher before finally beginning to move.

 

Each time he thrusts into her, the door gives a loud, shaky rattle, as if it’s threatening to fall from its frame.  The knowledge that anyone in the hall could hear them only makes her want him to fuck her harder, and soon he has her begging to do just that, a breathy plea in his ear that he immediately responds to.

 

“Jesus, Alex,” he groans as he quickens his pace, his grip becoming almost painful, but she  _loves_ it.

 

Her thighs quiver as her legs tighten around his waist, and she knows that the heels of her shoes must be digging painfully into his skin, but something about that sends another thrill shooting through her.  Again he shifts her higher on the door as he moves, and suddenly he’s hitting  _just the right_  spot and she’s crying out, her fingernails biting into the skin of his shoulders.

 

“ _God_ , Matt.   _Please_.  I- Just-” She can’t even make sense of what she’s trying to say, but Matt must understand because then his thumb is sliding through her slick flesh to find her clit.  It only takes two flicks and she’s there, flying over the edge with his name torn from her throat.  His hips jerk and then there’s a sudden rush of liquid heat as he comes with her, breathing out her name between low grunts.

 

Her feet drop to the floor and she stands on shaky legs as he kicks out of his shoes.  Stepping out of his pants and trousers that lay bunched at his ankles, he pulls her onto the hotel bed as they catch their breath and sweat cools on their skin.  His arm wraps around her as she curls into his side, and she can’t help the smile that comes to her lips.  As his fingers begin to toy absently with the ends of her curls, she glances up to find his eyes closed and the same contented expression on his face that she knows she must have.

 

“I can’t believe you tore my dress,” she whispers after a long moment of nothing but silence, and he opens his eyes to give her a smug grin.

 

“Well you tore my waistcoat,” Matt says defensively.

 

“Not the same.”

 

“How?”

 

“ _Because_ ,” she starts as she glances hopelessly at her torn dress.  “I can’t just go back to my room looking like  _this_.  It’s indecent.”

 

“Looking like what?  Thoroughly shagged?”  Matt gives her a smirk and she rolls her eyes.  “I rather like it.  It suits you, Kingston.”

 

“Not the point.”

 

“Then just stay,” he offers quietly after a moment, his tone suddenly serious, and the request makes her heart drop.

 

“Matt, I-”

 

“We can talk about it in the morning,” he tries, interrupting her.  “Just stay.  Please.”  He looks at her with wide, pleading eyes, and in that moment he looks so vulnerable that it makes it impossible for her to say no.

 

Ignoring the heaviness that has suddenly settled in her heart, she presses a soft kiss to his brow and feels him immediately relax.  “Of course I’ll stay, darling.”

 

XxX

 

When he wakes, he fully expects to open his eyes to an empty bed, but instead he finds Alex still sound asleep next to him, her hand on his chest.  Her hair is rumpled and there’s a bright red mark on her neck from the night before, and he smiles to see it.  As his eyes trace over the features of her face, he cherishes this moment of silence that’s only broken by the muffled sounds of the other guests of the hotel moving about and the occasional, far off ding of the lift. 

 

Dread settles heavily in his chest at the thought of the conversation that will have to happen when Alex wakes- he knows exactly how it will go.  Regret will be clearly written across her face as she avoids his gaze and explains how the night before was a poor decision on her part, and then she’ll give him an awkward apology and leave.  And he won’t go after her.  Again.  All he wants is for her to be happy, and despite how happy she may  _seem_  when she’s with him, apparently it’s not enough.  But the worst part is he just can’t figure out  _why_.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

The soft whisper pulls him from his thoughts and he turns his head to find Alex watching him with her brow furrowed in concern.

 

“You’re awake,” he states, offering her a small smile and sighing when she says nothing, still waiting on an answer.

 

“I was thinking about you,” he admits.

 

“Oh?”  She asks, propping herself up on one elbow.

 

He nods and turns his attention to the ceiling.  “I was imagining how our conversation was going to go.”  He pauses.  “I have to say I don’t particularly like the outcome.”

 

Hesitantly she asks, “And how did you imagining it going?”

 

Already he can feel her pulling away, and when he risks a glance at her, she’s staring at him with wide eyes, like a skittish deer preparing to run.  Swallowing heavily he finally speaks, “Well the only realistic outcome I could come up with involved you leaving with me yet again not going after you.”

 

“Again?”

 

He nods, pausing before confessing, “When you left before, I should’ve gotten on a plane, flown to America and scoured every corner of LA until I found you.  And I would have- if I thought it would’ve made a difference.”

 

“And it’s pathetic,” Matt continues after a moment of neither of them saying anything, “I came to Venice because for the past year all I could think about was you- your laugh, your smile, your magic hair.  I thought that just getting away would help me stop because I was going mad.  But instead, I find you  _here_ , and you would think that I would avoid you, but no- I crave every smile or touch you give me because I know it’s one more than I had before and the last one I may ever get.”

 

When he looks at her, he finds her watching him with a smile and huffs.  “Don’t look at me like that, Kingston.  I’m pouring out my feelings over here, you know,” he pouts.

 

Alex laughs lightly, dropping a kiss to his brow.  “You sound like you belong on a cheesy romance film, darling.”

 

Something in his chest loosens as he realizes that she’s avoiding the serious aspect of the conversation- as if she just wants to put it off and not think about it until she has to.  He supposes that should bother him more than it does, knowing that avoiding the issue will only make things worse in the end.  But if they try to forget about how in a week they will again go their separate ways, then they can enjoy time have together until then- and any time he has with her, as short as it may be, has to be better than no time at all.

 

So as he leans up and presses a kiss to her smiling lips, he forces himself to forget that soon he’ll be without her again, to forget that she’s getting married to someone who isn’t him, and to forget all of the heartache that this bad decision will ultimately cause.

 

XxX

 

The week passes by far too quickly for his liking.  Venice is a beautiful city, full of unique scenery, tons of people and great food- and he gets to experience it all with Alex, holding her hand as they stroll the streets and leaning in to kiss her whenever he wants.  But as wonderful as the city is, they spend more time behind the door of a hotel room than anywhere else.

 

On the last night, as they lay tangled in sheets and Alex is already starting to be taken by sleep, he finds himself having to ask the question that’s been nagging at the back of his mind.

 

“Does he make you happy?”  He whispers it, the words feeling bitter on his tongue as he half hopes that she’s already asleep and won’t answer.

 

Silence stretches for a long moment, and he’s beginning to think that maybe she really has already drifted off when she finally answers, “Yes.  He does.”

 

It was the answer he was expecting, but it still stings like a slap to the face.  For a brief moment, anger flares within him because what is she doing  _here_ , in a bed with  _him_  if this other bloke makes her so god damn happy?  Quickly, he shakes himself of the thought and shoves away the sudden jealously he feels toward the man that Alex somehow thinks deserves to be the one she walks down the aisle to.

 

“Do I make you happy?”  The question comes from his lips without his consent, and as she moves to look at him, he resolutely stares at the ceiling.

 

Her fingers begin to run lightly through his hair as she quietly answers, “Sometimes a little  _too_  happy, I think.”

 

Frowning, he turns his face to meet her gaze.  “You deserve to be too happy, Alex.”

 

With a small sigh, she shakes her head.  “It’s not like that.  It’s a different kind of happy.  I…you’re  _so young_ , Matt.  You’re still in school, you’re still finding out what you want for your life, and even though that may include me right now, it might not in a few years.”

 

Suddenly he realizes that this isn’t only about happiness for her- it’s about stability and security.  Her first marriage fell apart after years of being together, and now she’s not willing to just give out her heart on love alone.   It breaks his heart because he wonders if it hadn’t been for her prick of an ex, would she be more willing to be with him and let him love her instead of running back to America?

 

Tracing the backs of his fingers along his jaw, he whispers, “I will  _always_  want you in my life,” knowing that those simple words will do nothing to change her mind, but having the need to say them aloud anyway.

 

With a small, disbelieving smile, she only kisses him in response, and when she pulls back to settle back in the covers, he can still feel the sadness clinging to his lips.

 

The next morning, they wake and go find breakfast, eating in silence and only occasionally offering each other smiles that never quite reach the eyes, neither of them wanting to have to say goodbye.  Her train leaves before his, so when they return to the hotel, he helps her pack, zipping her suitcase closed and setting it by the door to wait until it’s time to leave.

 

They make love one more time, slowly and full of gentle caresses, soft moans and tears on skin.  With each touch and each kiss, he tries to convey to her without words how much she means to him, how much he loves her, and how much he’ll miss her when she’s gone.

 

When they arrive at the train station and the number for her train is called, he almost lets her go without saying it.  She has to know, there’s no way she doesn’t already, but he needs to  _say_  it- last time he didn’t and it haunted him for a whole year, this time it could haunt him for life.

 

So as she turns, bag in hand, he frantically grabs her hand to stop her, suddenly panicking as if she could’ve disappeared on the spot and he would have missed his chance.  “I need to tell you something,” he says quickly and her brow rises in question.  Taking a deep breath, he continues, “I don’t expect you to say anything, but I just need to know that  _you know_ , okay?”

 

Her eyes widen as if she knows exactly what he’s getting ready to say, and he can tell she’s getting ready to stop him, but he cuts her off with a shake of his head.

 

“I love you, Alex.   _So_ much.”  His voice cracks as he speaks and he hates himself for it because every time he promises himself he won’t cry, he does.  Reaching out, he brushes one of her curls behind her ear, noting the tears forming in her eyes as he quietly continues speaking.  “And the next time I see you, I’m not going to let you stand in the way of letting yourself be too happy.”

 

“Is that a promise, darling?”  Her voice is barely audible as a tear slides down her cheek that she doesn’t bother to wipe away.

 

“Yes.”  It’s an easy answer, and he thinks that it must be easy for her to accept, too, because they both know that the chances of them actually seeing each other again are slim to none.

 

Dropping her bag, she throws her arms around him and kisses him, her lips pressed firmly to his and he can taste the saltiness of tears- though he doesn’t know if they’re hers or his or both of theirs mingling together. 

 

Her train number is called for the last time and it’s her cue to pull away, reaching down to pick up her bag as she wipes hurriedly at her face.  When she looks back at him, she opens her mouth as if to say goodbye, but she stops as if she’s at a loss for what to say. 

 

A farewell just doesn’t feel  _right_ , so instead, he gives her one more kiss and she boards the train without another word, leaving him to stand there with his hands shoved in his pockets as the familiar lonely ache in his chest returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Sunday~


	9. Never compromise, accept no substitute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into his designated chair, he plucks a pen from the cup of writing utensils and taps it nervously against his knee as the rest of the cast begin to trickle in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from My Strongest Suit from the musical Aida (performed by Sherie Rene Scott)
> 
> From here on out this fic is considerably less AU~ (I apologize to those who prefer their AUs to stay AU)

He wakes to his phone clattering about on his bedside table, vibrating incessantly and alerting him that it's time to get up. Reaching over, he turns off the alarm and all but leaps out of bed, ready for the day to begin. The brunette sleeping in his bed gives a disgruntled huff and pulls the covers over her head.

 

"Sorry Daze," he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to her sheet-covered head and earning only a noise of discontentment in return.

 

Unable to keep the grin from his face, he dresses as quietly as possible, snatches his keys from the table and exits the temporary flat that serves as his home for the next nine months. It's been six years since he decided to pursue a career in acting, and after he was done at uni he got a few good parts, but today he's going to be starting the role of a lifetime- that of the Eleventh Doctor for the beloved show of Doctor Who.

 

He's nervous as hell that he's going to bollocks the whole thing up and ruin the show, but at the same time he's incredibly excited. As he enters the conference room being used for the read through, he suddenly thinks that watching previous episodes of the show may have been a good idea, but he had wanted to truly make this Doctor  _his_  and didn't want to subconsciously pick up things from the actors before him.

 

Settling into his designated chair, he plucks a pen from the cup of writing utensils and taps it nervously against his knee as the rest of the cast begin to trickle in. His script is worn and rumpled from him constantly reading through it, and as he flips through it idly, he thinks that he must have every line memorized. His ginger costar, Karen, takes the seat to his left and they exchange nervous glances and tight smiles. He's talked with Karen a few times before, and she's normally so full energy and smiles, but today it seems that the weight of the situation has finally settled, leaving them both nervous as they try to forget that the fate of the entire show- which is somehow so much  _more_ than just a show to  _so many_ people-now suddenly lies with them.

 

As two people take seats across from him, the room seems almost completely full and he frowns at the empty chair to his right. Leaning towards Karen, who seems a bit frazzled as she flicks at the edges of her script and chews nervously at her bottom lip, he pulls her from her thoughts and asks, "Do you know who's supposed to be sitting there?" gesturing to the seat next to him.

 

Hooking a long strand of ginger hair behind her ear, Karen nods eagerly, suddenly looking excited. "It's Alex Kingston's seat. Apparently they wanted us to shoot with an experienced actress for our first episode- so that we wouldn't be as nervous, you know? But if anything it makes it  _worse_. I mean I've seen Alex in a few things and she's bloody  _brilliant_."

 

Anything else that Karen says is lost, his heart suddenly in his throat and his mind reeling. Not quite wanting to believe what he's hearing, he flips rapidly to the beginning of the script, searching for the cast list he skipped right over each time he read through it. His eyes quickly scan the page, and then there it is, the name Alex Kingston typed neatly next to the character name River Song.

 

But it can't- this can't- she  _cannot_ be  _his_ Alex.

 

Dropping the script as if it were on fire, Matt looks around frantically for a head of dark curls- or would they still be that ginger-blonde color- and finds himself torn between hoping to see her and wishing that this Alex Kingston would be a completely different person all together and  _not_ the woman who had stolen his heart and not given it back.

 

He hasn't seen Alex in  _six bloody years_ , and since then he's moved on- if that's what you want to call it- though really, it's been more like him trying to fill the hole in his heart with other women, only to find each one to be an ill fit.

 

And then he found Daisy. She's just about as different from Alex as one can get- maybe that's why he was drawn to her- and she's lovely. They've been together for almost a year, and he's been starting to think that maybe she's the one he'll end up spending his forever with. If there's a small voice in his head telling him that he's only settling because he lost the one he truly loved, well, he's been able to ignore it.

 

Until now.

 

Because  _now_ he can hear her laugh floating down the corridor, its warmth wrapping around him to be all at once comforting and suffocating. And he had forgotten. He had  _forgotten_ how much he loved that sound. His heart clenches and for a moment he thinks that he  _cannot do this_. How is he supposed to work with her every single day and not let his personal emotions bleed through? Hell, he doesn't even know what his emotions toward her _are_. But maybe that's a good thing- maybe that means he really has moved past her.

 

He glances up the moment she walks in, accompanied by the new head writer of the show, Steven Moffat, and his heart immediately slams against his chest. She doesn't even notice he's there, talking animatedly to Steven, a smile on her face and gesturing wildly with her hands. Steven chuckles at whatever she's saying, then turns to the address the room and introduce her. But whatever he says goes unheard by Matt. The only thing he's aware of is the sudden increase of his heart rate as he watches Alex, her hair- completely blonde now- piled on top of her head, a smile gracing her lips and her eyes lit with excitement to begin the first read through.

 

If he had thought the feelings he has for her had lessened in any way, he was so utterly and  _completely_ wrong. Just by looking at her he knows that his life is about to entirely change all over again, regardless of whether he wants it to or not.

 

Karen is introduced as the new companion and Alex moves to embrace her warmly, smile still on her face as she mentions looking forward to working with her on this episode. And then suddenly her eyes move to him and her face becomes the picture of shock, her eyes widening.

 

As Steven introduces him, Matt avoids her gaze and hastily stands, somehow managing to knock over his chair in the process-  _of course_.

 

Swearing under his breath, he hurriedly sets the chair back in its upright position, a blush crawling up his neck and over the tips of his ears as Steven chuckles and makes some remark about the Eleventh Doctor being a bit clumsier than his previous regenerations.

 

Suddenly he feels like an eighteen-year-old kid again, the same one who seemed in a perpetual state of clumsiness and was reduced to constantly blushing whenever Alex Kingston was present. Ducking his head in embarrassment, he glances up at Alex through his fringe to find her smiling warmly at him, a fondness in her eyes.

 

"Hello, darling." She extends her hand to him. "It's lovely to meet you."

 

Something in his chest loosens and he feels lighter as his fingers close around hers, a frisson of excitement running through him at just the simple touch.  It's hard to keep the face-splitting grin from his face as he realizes that this could be a completely new beginning for them.  He figured that he would never see her again- what else could this be than fate at work? It's like the hands of destiny are shoving them together for a third time, and he would have to be an idiot to ignore it. And he is definitely  _not_ an idiot- well at least not when it comes to this.

 

He grins. "Hello."

 

XxX

 

The moment the read through is over she is putting as much space between her and Matt as possible. It's only after there is an entire room full of people between them and the lift doors are sliding shut to separate her from the entire floor of the building does she actually allow herself to  _breathe_.

 

Slumping against the lift wall, she drags a hand over her face and tries to pull her thoughts together. The very last thing she expected when walking into that conference room was to see  _Matt Smith_. And on top of that, he's taking on the role of  _the Doctor_. The very lead of the show. Which means she'll be working with him day in and day out for the  _entire time_ she's here.

 

Bloody hell.

 

She hasn't seen him in six years- not that she's counted- and to see him now somehow makes her feel like the universe itself is mocking her. She had left him, had given him up, on the hope that she would have a long-lasting, _stable_ relationship with Florian.

 

Scoffing at herself as she exits the lift and hurries out of the building, she mutters, "Stupid,  _stupid_ , Alexandra," reminding herself yet again that her life is not a fairytale and rarely ever goes to plan.

 

Her marriage had just recently fallen apart, broken by too many small disagreements and one rather large one that ended with her in tears and him slamming the door as he left. It wasn't like Florian didn't love her, he did, and she had loved him in return, but not fully and completely like she should have. And if she's honest, that's probably why she didn't fight as hard as she should have to keep their marriage together.

 

But it's not like it matters now, it's over, so instead her thoughts wander back to the read through. After seeing Matt and recovering from the initial shock of seeing him after all this time, she had thought that everything would be strained with awkward tension- but it hadn't been. They fell into comfortable conversation, as if they were meeting for the first time, and everything was fine.

 

Well,  _more_ than fine, actually. Their characters had instantly clicked, and it seems to her that he is going to be an absolutely  _wonderful_ Doctor, despite some of the doubts that some of the public seem to have. The only problem is that she's worried that the friendly comfortableness they seemed to share today was only that of their characters. Once she had come to terms with the fact that Matt had somehow wriggled his way back into her life- well, she still might not be at terms with it if she's honest, it's a lot to take in- she realized that she was more than a little happy to see his utterly ridiculous face. And she's quite terrified that he might hate her a bit.

 

She had left him. Twice. Because she'd been  _scared_.

 

He had poured out his heart to her and she had returned it by running away and leaving him with no intention of ever seeing him again. How would he feel toward her now? She can't help but think that if  _she_ were  _his_ position, she'd be on the bitter side.

 

Climbing up the stairs to the temporary flat that she'll be using while filming for Who, she shakes herself of the thought and smiles as she fishes for her keys- just through the door is the best part of her day.

 

The moment the door closes behind her she hears the sudden pitter-patter of tiny feet and her smile widens at the sound.

 

"Mummy!" Her daughter exclaims as she rounds the corner at full tilt and all but flings herself into her mother's awaiting arms.

 

"Sal!" Alex mimics, laughing at the gleeful sound her four-year-old makes as she spins her in a circle. Alex loves that every time she walks through the door her daughter greets her as if she hasn't seen her ages, even if it's only been an hour since she's left.

 

Lucy, the young woman who watches Salome while Alex is gone, smiles at them as she prepares to leave. Alex frowns suddenly, putting on a mock tone of disapproval as she asks, "Was she terribly dreadful today, Lucy?

 

"Oh she was just  _awful_ ," Lucy responds in the same tone before laughing at Salome's hurt expression and walking out the door with a slight wave.

 

" _Mummy_ ," Salome whines, looking up at Alex with a pout.

 

"Don't give me that tone, young lady, you are in a  _heap_ of trouble.  Now how shall I punish such  _inexcusable_ behavior, hmm?"

 

Salome's eyes widen comically as Alex pretends to think, and she's just on the verge of protesting that she'd not done anything when Alex exclaims, "Oh! I know  _just_ the thing." And then she's pinning her daughter to the ground and tickling her mercilessly, earning high-pitched squeals of laughter from her.

 

"Mummy!" Salome laughs breathlessly as her mother continues her onslaught, "Mummy, I didn't  _do_ anything!"

 

"Oh," Alex says, face serious as she sits back, temporarily putting a stop to the tickling. "Well in  _that_ case." And then her fingers are on her again, tickling at Salome's ribs and belly as she peels into another fit of laughter.

 

Alex is just going for the bottom of her feet, knowing that's where she's ticklish most, when she hears a low chuckle from behind her. Stilling her hands, she looks behind her and is surprised to find Matt leaning in the open doorway, ridiculous grin on his face.

 

Standing, she hooks an escaped curl behind her ear and smiles. "Matt.  Hi." Salome hides behind her legs as if Matt can't actually see her, peering at him curiously.

 

Frowning suddenly, confused, Alex asks, "What are you doing here?"

 

"Oh," Matt says, eyes widening as he suddenly feels like he's intruding. "The door was open and I- I didn't- I didn't  _follow_ you or anything if that's what you're thinking, I just- I-" He huffs, tugging his fingers through his hair in frustration, and Alex smiles at his rambling- some things never change, she supposes.

 

"I have the flat just across the hall, and I heard you when I was going in and now I'm here," he manages to get out, gesturing to where he's currently standing and smiling sheepishly at her.

 

"Mummy, who is he?" Salome whispers, tugging on the leg of Alex's jeans to get her attention.

 

Bending down, Alex picks up Salome before answering, "Sal, this is Matt, he's-"  He's...he's...what the hell is he?  An old lover?  Someone she could easily get attached to again if she let herself?  Just a boy she used to forget about her first crumbled marriage?  An ache forms in her chest at the last one.  It hurts to acknowledge that he was so much more to her than that, so she doesn't, stubbornly ignoring the thought.  But what  _cannot_  be ignored is the fact that he is no longer just a  _boy_ \- though he still does have his baby face, which she rather loves.

 

"He's going to be the new Doctor," Alex finally finishes and her daughter's eyes widen, bringing a smile to her lips as she looks at Matt and continues, "Matt this is Salome." She pauses. "She's my daughter."

 

Matt blinks in surprise before grinning at Salome, "Hello."

 

Salome gives a small wave before burying her face by Alex's neck.

 

Alex gives Matt an apologetic smile. "She's a bit shy." Setting Salome back on the floor, she suggests, "Why don't you go play, hmm? I'll call you when dinner's ready."

 

Giving Matt one last glance, Salome runs off, leaving Alex and Matt alone.

 

The floor seems suddenly far more interesting than anything else, and Alex finds herself staring at it awkwardly, rocking back on her heels as her hands slip into her back pockets.

 

"Alex." Matt's voice is warm, and when she risks a glance up at him, he's smiling at her softly, his eyes shining with a happiness that she doesn't understand, but it melts her heart almost instantly.

 

"It's really wonderful to see you, you know," he says, smiling slightly, as if he is embarrassed to admit it.

 

Taking a few steps closer to him, Alex smiles softly as she really just  _looks_ at him for the first time since this morning. She can feel the tell-tale sign of prickling behind her eyes, which she resolutely ignores because she is being  _god damn ridiculous_ and she is  _not_ going to  _cry_. She's just missed him. Quite terribly. And she hadn't realized it until just now.

 

"It's wonderful to see you, too, Matt."

 

And then she's hugging him, or maybe he's the one hugging her, she can't tell but it doesn't even matter, it's just nice to have the feel of his arms around her again- to know for sure that he's actually here and that this isn't some sort of sick dream that her mind concocted to torture her.

 

The hug isn't one of two past lovers, but more like that of two old friends who haven't seen each other in far too long. It holds no regrets of the past or promises for the future, it's just a simple hug that conveys how wonderful it is to finally see one another again.

 

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again," Alex whispers, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she turns her face into his neck.

 

Matt's arms tighten around her. "I didn't think you'd ever  _want_ to see me again."

 

She closes her eyes tightly against the sting of his words as she answers, "You know that's not true."

 

"Do I?" Matt takes a step back, regarding her with sad eyes.

 

"You should."

 

He only gives her a small smile in return, and she knows she won't be able to convince him of something he doesn't believe with just her words. So instead she gives a small sigh and tugs gently at the ends of his hair as she comments, "Your hair's gotten utterly ridiculous, darling." The term of endearment slips out without her consent, but either he doesn't catch it, or ignores it as he frowns and pats at his overly fluffy hair.

 

"There is  _nothing_ wrong with my hair, thank you very much, Kingston. It's just a bit on the fluffy side is all."  Even as he argues her words, he's pushing his fingers self-consciously through his hair as if he can make it settle down.

 

Alex laughs. "Makes you look your age, though, I'll give it that- forever twelve."

 

"Oi!  That is  _rude_.  I'm twenty- _six_ , you know."

 

His defensive tone brings a smirk to her lips. "Still a baby, then."

 

He pouts at her. "I'll have you know that twenty-six is a very  _manly_ age, Kingston."

 

"Whatever you say, darling," she calls back to him as she moves into her kitchen to make tea, hoping he'll follow.

 

As she pulls down two cups from the cabinet, she thinks she might ask him to stay for dinner- as a friend.  Because that what he is to her, just a friend.  And she doesn't think her heart could handle him being anything more or anything  _less_  to her.

 

XxX

 

Against his better judgment, he stays for dinner. He's sure that Daisy will be wondering where he is, but the moment Alex places the plate of food in front of him, smile on her face, he forgets all about his girlfriend just across the hall.

 

Salome runs in and is just about to climb into her chair when Alex scoops her up, regarding her daughter's paint-covered face and hands with a raised brow. "Really?  Paint?  _Before_ dinner?  If you think your yellow and red hands are touching my cutlery you are  _wrong_ , little madam."

 

Pouting, Salome whines, "But  _mummy_ , I was painting something for Matty."

 

Alex blinks in surprise. "Oh really?"

 

"Yeah!" Then in a whisper, as if he can't hear her, she says, "It's my best one  _yet_ , mummy."

 

"Well that still doesn't change the fact that you are  _covered_ in paint. Let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"  Glancing apologetically at Matt for the brief interruption of dinner, she takes Salome down the hall despite her protests.

 

Five minutes later he hears the quick pounding of small feet running down the hall, then Salome emerges into the kitchen, smile on her no longer paint-covered face, and holding out a piece of paper as she comes to a halt in front of him.

 

"Made this for you," she says shyly, clasping her hands behind her back as he takes it from her.

 

His heart melts a bit as his eyes scan the painting- from what he can tell, it's him as the Doctor, standing next to a rectangle of blue that he supposes is the TARDIS.  All around him are blobs with arms and legs, and he almost laughs at their comical faces that he knows are supposed to be intimidating and scary.

 

"It's you," Salome clarifies. "And some monsters, but don't worry, I know you'll take care of them," she finishes in a matter-of-fact tone.

 

With a broad grin, he bends down to hug the small child, his smile widening as her arms squeeze around his neck in return.  "Thank you, Salome, it's wonderful."

 

Beaming, she clambers into her chair and as he takes his own seat, he doesn't miss how Alex is looking at him- a warm smile gracing her lips and her brow slightly furrowed as if she just can't figure him out.  But whatever she's thinking goes unsaid as she shakes herself and slips into the chair across from him.

 

Somehow, he ends up staying until Alex puts Salome to bed.  And after that he stays a while longer, lounging on her sofa as they talk about seemingly everything- him about his career and Daisy, and her about her own career and her recent divorce.  She doesn't seem to mind talking about it, but all the while he can't help but wonder how someone could just  _give her up_.

 

Again.

 

It's a thought that follows him when he finally enters his dark, empty flat.  Fleetingly, he wonders where Daisy is, but his thoughts almost immediately find their way back to Alex as he places the painting on his fridge.  If  _he_  were Alex's husband, he would never let her go in a million years- and even after all that time, his hold on her wouldn't be any less.  

 

But he'll never have to worry about that, he supposes.  He and Alex are only friends- and for the moment it seems like that is how they will stay.

 

A dull ache settles in his chest at the thought, and as he stares at the painting he remembers the tearful conversation they had before she boarded that train all those years ago.

 

_I love you, Alex._ So  _much_.   _And the next time I see you, I’m not going to let you stand in the way of letting yourself be too happy._

_Is that a promise, darling?_

_Yes._


	10. All the same, it's Conscience waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's difficult. Really /really/ difficult. To walk on set every day and talk and laugh and smile at her while only regarding her as a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Come in Please by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
> 
> I was asked so nicely to update today so here we are- Happy Tuesday I guess (:
> 
> Only three more chapters left! (the last one is the epilogue so it doesn't count ok) Again, thank you to all who continue to read this fic- I WOULD PERSONALLY HUG EVERY ONE OF YOU IF I COULD

It's difficult.  Really  _really_ difficult.  To walk on set every day and talk and laugh and smile at her while only regarding her as a friend.

 

They flirt.   _A lot_.  Unabashedly and without intent, and it's difficult to keep himself in check, to remind himself that it means  _nothing_.  Because- because he  _wants_  it to mean something.  And he hates himself for it because he has Daisy- shouldn't she be enough? 

 

Too busy mentally berating himself, he doesn't even notice the thick electrical cord running along the ground, and suddenly he's stumbling over it, headed face-first to the ground when a hand fists around the tweed of the Doctor's jacket and barely manages to keep him on his feet.

 

"Careful, darling," comes a soft, rich voice from behind him, and as he turns to face her he can already feel the tell-tale flush spreading over the tips of his ears.  Somehow it is always  _Alex_  that saves him from face-planting into the ground.  Or maybe it is  _because_  of her that his attention is focused elsewhere- elsewhere currently being  _her_  in that  _dress_.  

 

It is a simple dress.  Black.  Probably nothing extraordinary when viewed on a clothes hanger.  But bloody hell if it doesn't look  _stunning_  on her.  The fabric clings softly to her curves and cascades past her feet, causing her to have to pull it up ever so slightly when she walks.  The neckline is low enough to give him a heart attack and  _what was the costume department thinking_?  He has a hard enough time trying to keep his eyes off of her as it is, and with her in that dress it is going to be sodding impossible to keep his staring to a minimum.  Not to mention he just wants to  _touch_  her, to run his hands over the smooth material and feel her curves and the heat of her skin beneath his palms.

 

Oh fuck.  He  _hates_  the costume department.

 

Alex begins to fidget under his gaze, nervously plucking at the material of the dress as she starts, "I  _told_  them it was a bit over the top but they insist-"

 

"No," Matt interrupts, grabbing her hands to stop her fidgeting.  "You look beautiful."

 

Tilting her head slightly, she narrows her eyes as if she can't tell if he is being serious.  It gives him the sudden urge to find the person who gave her reason to believe that she's not anything but absolutely stunning and beat them to a pulp.  Instead, he grins broadly and taps her lightly on the nose, delighting in the way the simple touch brings a smile to her lips.  "It'll be a miracle if I can even remember my lines with you dressed like that, Kingston."

 

With a roll of her eyes, she gives him a playful shove.  "You're an impossible flirt, you know that?"

 

He beams.  "It's my job."

 

"It's really not, you know."  He is sure that the quip is supposed to be light and playful, but it falls flat with her strained smile and obvious tension at the corners of her eyes.

 

Frowning, he watches her seriously, lightly grabbing her wrist when she tries to move away.  "Yes," Matt stresses, "it  _is_  my job."  Because somehow he has gone from having Alex completely absent from his life to her being right next to him every day- and now it is somehow suddenly his mission to bring a smile to her lips with every chance he gets and to wipe away any self-doubt or sadness that lurks behind her eyes.  He knows her.  She hides behind what she thinks is a well formed mask and focuses on taking care of everyone else except _herself_.  So he'll do it for her- though he knows he's only close enough to her to do little things, like bring her tea and flirt with her every chance he gets.  But, he supposes, it's better than nothing.

 

Her eyes widen slightly at the force of his grip and the seriousness of his tone that tries to convey everything that his words cannot.  "Matt," she starts, regret in her eyes that makes him stand a little taller and brace himself- he is  _not_  ready for this conversation.  They have barely acknowledged their past together, something that he has been immensely grateful for because he  _hates_  thinking of it as their  _past_.  Not their present or their future.

 

He knows that she would never give him another chance because he never really had a chance in the first place, did he?  Regardless of any feelings formed, she cast him aside when the time came.  And he is  _so confused_  because why does he seem to care  _so damn much_  when he knows his heart is only going to get mangled again for doing so?

 

A member of the crew interrupts them to tell them that it is time to begin filming, so whatever else she had to say goes unspoken.  But, he thinks as they move to begin the shoot, he already knows what she was going to say- that regret in her eyes said it all.  She wants to make sure they are on the same page, that they both won't develop any feelings for each other beyond that of friendship, regardless of what happened between them in the past.

 

But, no matter what she thinks, it's already too late for him- everything he felt toward her never went away, not completely.  It's more like it went into hibernation and woke in full force the moment she walked in for the first read through.  And he despises himself for it because it isn't  _fair_.  It's not fair to Daisy and it's not fair to  _him_.  Daisy is...is  _great_.  He was even considering  _marrying_  her for god's sake.  And, and, and  _Alex Kingston_  shouldn't change any of that, should she?

 

Except she changes  _everything_.  Seeing her again makes him recall the affection he had for her,  _has for her_ , and it opens his eyes.  As much as he likes Daisy, he knows that he doesn't care for her as much as he should.  Every time he looks at Alex he sees everything Daisy is not, and that's not how it should be.  The woman he is with deserves his full attention  _without_  comparison.  However, as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that the only woman that could ever meet that requirement would be Alex, because it will always be  _her_  that he uses as comparison to any other woman he may ever find himself with.

 

Sighing, he takes instruction from the director and climbs up to the prop TARDIS- the one that is most definitely  _not_  bigger on the inside- and seats himself in the open doorway as they prepare Alex to be lifted into the air.  Whistling, he kicks his legs back and forth in the empty space below him and focuses on the scene they're about to shoot.  Originally, River was supposed to land gracefully inside the TARDIS, but it had been his  _brilliant_  idea to suggest that she should instead topple onto the Doctor.  And by brilliant, he means absolutely  _idiotic_.

 

The moment he voiced his suggestion, Alex had peered at him over the rim of her glasses- which he adores to no end- with a smirk on her lips and brow arched in amusement.  At that time he had thought himself quite clever.  Now, however, he's starting to think a bit differently.  They have to shoot two different angles- one with him leaning out to catch her from the TARDIS, and the other with her falling on top of him inside the console room.  As great of a moment as it will be for the show, it's going to be far from  _his_  greatest moment.  She is going to be so close he can  _smell_  her, and he can already predict that it is going to take everything he has for him to  _stay focused_.

 

Glancing down, he can see Alex gesturing wildly with her hands and practically bouncing with eagerness as they attach her to the cables.  Her excitement is practically  _rolling_  off her in waves, and he can't help but grin at the wide smile that is spread across her face.  She's  _gorgeous_  and he huffs because  _why can't he stop thinking things like that_?  Well, he thinks as he watches her, feelings aside, he's not  _blind_.  Even if he had never set eyes on her before, if she was just a woman he bumped into on the street, he would still think that she is the most beautiful woman he ever met.

 

He can see the nervousness suddenly take over as they begin to hoist her into the air, her smile gone as she worries her bottom lip.  Getting to his feet, he grins at her white-knuckled grip on the cords and calls, "You're gonna have to let go _sometime_ , Kingston!"

 

Alex throws him glare that only makes him chuckle.  "Oh shut it, Matthew!  You wouldn't find it as amusing if it were  _your_  skinny arse being lifted fifteen bloody feet in the air!"

 

Lifting his hands in surrender, he grins.  "Only trying to be supportive,  _Alexandra._ "

 

With an indignant gasp, Alex opens her mouth to retort, but stops as she realizes that her grip has lessened considerably and she is now being held only by the cables.  Letting go completely, she looks down and swings her legs experimentally before fixing him with another glare, though he can see the corners of her lips twitch as if she wants to smile.

 

"I hate you."

 

"You don't," he retorts, grinning smugly.

 

"Stop looking so ruddy proud of yourself."  Even as she says it, her smile blooms fully across her face and it fills his chest with warmth as he shrugs at her words.

 

"Can't help it."

 

"Oi!  You two!"  The director calls as Alex opens her mouth to reply, "Can you stop flirting so we can begin now?"  His tone is amused, but it causes Matt to flush nonetheless, though his grin is instantly back as he hears Alex mumble, "We were  _not_  flirting."  

 

Oh they were  _most definitely_  flirting.

 

Alex narrows her eyes at him as if she can  _hear_  his thoughts and he only waggles his eyebrows in return.  Her attempt to look unimpressed by him fails as she starts to giggle, shaking her head at him.  He  _loves_  when she giggles.  It's just so, so,  _so unlike_  what anyone would expect to hear from her, and he feels quite chuffed that  _he_  is the reason for the sound.

 

The moment  _action_  is yelled, Alex is flying towards him, arms outstretched as he reaches out of the TARDIS to catch her.  The second she collides into him, they are both sent crashing against the back wall of the box, Matt placing a hand on her hip and an arm around her waist to keep them both on their feet.

 

They are both laughing breathlessly, but the moment he looks down and finds her looking back at him, nothing seems quite as funny anymore.  All of her glorious curves are pressed against him, her fingers curling around the tweed fabric at his shoulders as she bites at her bottom lip.  He's incapable of stopping his hand from skimming up her back along her spine, the black fabric of her dress soft to the touch and warm from her skin. It sort of feels like one of those real life slow motion moments, and all he wants to do is kiss her.  He wants to haul her against him and just  _kiss her_  until they are both dizzy and panting and  _wanting_.

 

As if suddenly fully realizing how close they actually are, Alex wrenches herself from his grasp and steps back, almost falling backwards out of the TARDIS.  Matt grabs her arms to steady her and smiles slightly.  "Relax Kingston.  I'm not going to try to seduce you right here in this box, you know."

 

Alex huffs and pokes him playfully in the chest.  "You better not try to seduce me at all, Matt."

 

He grins.  "I make no promises."

 

With a fond, exasperated look, she turns from him and steps out of the TARDIS to dangle in the air again, preparing for another take.  Pushing a hand through his hair, Matt repositions himself and swallows heavily, trying not to think of what it felt like to have her warm body against his or how soon, they'll be shooting takes that will require her to  _lie on top of him_.

 

Christ.

 

He's not entirely sure he's going to make it through the day.

 

XxX

 

They have a wrap party once filming for the two episodes has concluded.  She doesn't want to go- she genuinely, really  _really_  does  _not_  want to go.  But Karen eventually wears her down with her  _please_ s and her whiningand that is how Alex finds herself standing in front of her mirror, trying to decide on what to wear.   _Honestly_ , she scolds herself.  It shouldn't be this difficult to decide what to wear to a  _pub_.

 

Eventually she decides on a simple green dress made of soft material, the deciding factor being that she loves the way it flows around her knees when she walks.

 

Her decision to not wear something casual has absolutely  _nothing_  to do with the fact that Matt will be there.  Not at all.

 

After she gives Lucy instructions about Salome's bedtime and plants a kiss goodbye on her daughter's forehead, she leaves for the pub that's been rented out specifically for the party.  She feels irrationally anxious the whole way there, but the feeling quickly dissipates the moment she walks in and finds her arms full of ginger as Karen hugs her in welcome.

 

"I was afraid you had decided not to come after all!"  Karen shouts over the music, which is astonishingly a lot louder than any pub music she's used to.  "Matt's been moping all night, maybe you can cheer him up, yeah?"  Karen continues without giving her time to respond, pushing her toward a booth in back where Matt sits, slumped over the table like he's brooding.  And with that she's gone, saying something about getting them drinks and disappearing among the crowd around the bar.

 

Matt doesn't even acknowledge her presence when she slips into the seat across from him.  Leaning back, she arches a contemplating brow at him.  "And hello to you, too, darling."

 

His head whips up so fast she's surprised she doesn't hear it snap.  "Kingston!"  He exclaims, a smile breaking across his face before he pouts, "I thought you flew back to LA without saying goodbye."

 

"My flight doesn't leave until tomorrow afternoon."  She pauses.  "Is that why you were moping?"

 

"I was not  _moping_."

 

"Karen says otherwise."

 

"Kazza is a liar," he sniffs.

 

Alex is just about to tease him, reply ready, when a tall, thin girl with long dark hair slides into the booth next to Matt, plopping her oversized bag onto the table.  "Hey, baby," the girl greets Matt, kissing him swiftly on the cheek.

 

A sudden sickening feeling churns in Alex's stomach, the smile falling from her face as Matt mumbles his greeting in return, looking like he wishes he could disappear on the spot.  Clearing his throat, he gestures to Alex as he introduces her.  "Daze this is Alex, Alex this is Daisy."  The girl's smile looks about as tight as Alex's feels as they nod in acknowledgment toward one another.

 

Turning to Matt, the girl slings her arms around his shoulders and begins chatting to him, pointedly ignoring Alex.  Matt gives limited, soft spoken answers to whatever she's saying, avoiding looking Alex in the eye.

 

She is extremely pretty, Alex notes, not to mention she's around the same age as Matt.  She's perfect for him, really.  The thought produces a gnawing, aching sensation in her chest that makes her wish she had just stayed in her flat with her daughter this evening.  Chewing on her bottom lip, Alex looks around for Karen, in dire need of that drink.

 

When she spots Karen's obvious ginger hair still near the bar, she slips out of the booth without a word, figuring neither of them will notice and thinking about just telling Karen goodbye and leaving- suddenly all she wants is to snuggle into the covers of her bed with a glass of wine and a book.  But Karen has none of it, insisting that she stay and shoving a drink into her hand.  Somehow Karen talks her into dancing, and pushes her in the direction of the nearest man with a wink that earns a roll of Alex's eyes.  

 

Most of her night is spent dancing with members of the crew, until she spots Matt and Daisy standing near the exit, talking in a seemingly heated manner.  She tries not to pay them any attention, but she can't help but glance over at them every now and again.  Once the song ends, Alex looks over to find Matt standing alone, dragging a hand over his face before he exits the pub with hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped.

 

Frowning, Alex follows after him, pushing through the door of the pub and into the chilly night air.  Matt stands slumped against a wall of the pub, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the ground.  Hands on her hips, Alex huffs.  "Moping again, are we?"

 

The corner of his mouth lifts into a half smile.  "Not moping, Kingston."

 

Sighing, she moves to stand beside him, leaning back against the wall and bumping her shoulder against his.  "What's wrong, darling?"

 

When he looks at her, his eyes hold none of the playfulness that she's used to, and for a moment she thinks that he's actually going to tell her.  But then he smiles and lightly taps her nose.  "You worry too much."

 

Unsatisfied that he refuses to give her an answer, she grabs his shirt and pulls him toward her, choosing to comfort him in the only way she can.  Her arms wrap around him and she smiles into his neck when his arms lock around her in return.  He's warm and she can faintly smell his cologne under the bolder smell of pub and mint.  She smiles slightly to herself, wondering if he'll ever give those mints up- not that she would ever want him to.

 

"I didn't get to dance with you," Matt speaks quietly into her hair.

 

"You never asked."

 

She hears him swallow heavily, as if he's nervous, before he asks, "Dance with me, Kingston?"

 

Pulling back, she smiles at him as she drapes her arms over his shoulders.  "Of course, darling."

 

His face lights up with a face-splitting smile, and he moves to rest his hands on her waist and he begins to sway them to a tune he starts to hum.

 

Smiling, she raises a brow at him.  "Are you just making that tune up on the spot?"

 

Matt gasps, looking hurt.  "I am  _offended_  that you would think that."

 

"Well are you?"  He twirls her under his arm before pulling her back close, and she's suddenly painfully reminded of the cold winter day years ago when they went flower shopping- how he danced with her without caring who was looking, and how her hands felt so frozen that she tried to warm them on his skin, though he immediately jumped back at her cold touch.

 

"Maybe," he finally answers, pulling her from her thoughts.

 

She sighs fondly.  "Idiot."

 

Though he continues with his soft humming, she can still feel him smiling into her hair and it makes her wish that- no.  If there is anything she has learned, she knows that wishing only causes heartache.  So she forgets about wishing, and forgets about wanting, and instead only focuses on the feel of him pressed against her and the sound of his dissonant humming.

 

"You'll be back, right?"  His question is spoken so softly she almost doesn't hear him.  Pulling back, she smiles softly at his expression that seems all at once worried and lost.

 

"Of course I'll be back, River's in the finale."

 

Matt beams.  "The Doctor  _does_  need his wife, doesn't he?"

 

"What makes you think she's his wife?"

 

"She just  _has_  to be."

 

Alex laughs lightly.  "You're ridiculous."

 

"No, I'm  _serious_.  I would  _bet_  that she's his wife."  He pauses, his eyes suddenly widening.  "Wait.  Has Steven already told you who she is?"

 

Her only answer is a wry smile that has him sputtering, "Kingston!  You know, don't you?!  I-You-She- You have to tell me!"

 

Of course she hasn't a clue who River is, well she has her own theories, but Steven has yet to tell her anything- but Matt doesn't need to know that now does he?

 

"I'll see you in a few months, darling," she says, ignoring the very  _non_ -threatening glare he gives her as she stands on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.  As she leaves him standing there and returns to her flat, she's filled with this odd empty feeling as she realizes that she doesn't want to go back to LA.


	11. You were made to go out and get her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is dangerous. Not in the fact that he trips over thin air and breaks a piece of filming equipment almost every day, but in the way that if she's not careful, she'll get roped back into something she cannot handle- something her /heart/ cannot handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Hey Jude by the Beatles

Matt is dangerous.  Not in the fact that he trips over thin air and breaks a piece of filming equipment almost every day, but in the way that if she's not careful, she'll get roped back into something she cannot handle- something her  _heart_ cannot handle.  While in LA, she thoroughly convinced herself that it's best if she keep as much distance between her and Matt as possible.  She doesn't think rationally when he's around, and she doesn't want to make some rash decision and ruin everything- because that's exactly what she did last time.  Last time she had pulled him into her bed looking for nothing but a good fuck.  She hadn't counted on getting attached to the point where it nearly killed her to leave.

 

If she allowed herself to regrow those attachments, she knows that she would never be able to let him go.  And that's the problem because eventually, no matter what he says in the beginning, he would leave her.  He would get bored or he would find someone else, someone prettier, someone younger, and leave her- and she's not sure if her heart could survive a third failure.

 

And all of that makes sense to her when she is half the world away from him.  Those thoughts are  _rational_.  They  _make sense_.  Right up until she walks into the hair and makeup trailer her first day back and Matt's grin is so bright when he sees her it makes her heart leap.  Then all of her thoughts are a scrambled mess because just that smile can halfway convince her that if she tried, everything would work out fine.

 

"Kingston!" Matt exclaims, attempting to jump up to hug her in greeting, but is forced to stay in place by the lady working on his hair. "Just one moment, Mr. Smith," the hairdresser mumbles, taking a few more seconds on his hair before placing her hands on her hips.  "Don't mess it up this time, yeah? Not one hair out of place!"

 

Leaping up, Matt salutes her with his best serious face before turning to Alex with an expression of what seems to be pure happiness, and she can feel that the smile on her face is just as wide.

 

"Hello, darling."

 

Giving her a smacking, wet kiss to the cheek that Alex scrunches her nose at, he envelops her in a warm hug that she all too easily returns.  His hugs are full body, all-encompassing hugs that fill her with warmth right down to her toes, and it is impossible for her to refuse them.  It seems like her plan to distance herself from him is already crumbling at her feet.

 

"Miss me, Kingston?" He asks as she pulls back.

 

With a roll of her eyes, Alex settles herself in the chair so her hair and makeup process can begin.  "Quite terribly, darling- like a thorn in my foot."

 

His smile widens before the implications of her words set in and he gasps.  "Oi!  That is  _rude_."  Matt pouts at her.  "You know you missed me."

 

Just before the ladies get to work and she has to close her eyes as one begins to swipe makeup on her face, she smiles slightly and answers seriously, "Of course I did."

 

XxX

 

He’s a free man now- if that’s how he chooses to look at it.  Daisy left him the night of the wrap party, and he did little to stop her.  Which actually means he did nothing at all.  But it's not really his fault, is it?  Alex had looked god damned  _amazing_  in her soft-looking green dress, and when she danced he had been utterly entranced by the way it flowed out around her knees, and how her curls bounced and her face flushed as she threw her head back and laughed.  It had been impossible to do anything but blatantly stare.  And Daisy noticed.

 

She sniffed that he was embarrassing her, and when he looked at her quizzically, she huffed at him in return.  With her arms crossed, she glared at him and told him that it seemed that he was more interested in a woman who could pass as his mother than his own girlfriend.   _Lord knows why_ , she added, inspecting her nails,  _She's not even remotely attractive_.  

 

Ogling Alex with his girlfriend present had not been the best move he's ever pulled- he understood that she was upset, but degrading Alex just to goad him into a response had been just about as far from the right thing to say as she could have gotten.  Turning his attention back to Alex, he ground out,  _A fifteen year gap hardly qualifies her to be the age of my mum._   And when he looked back at her, her lips were pressed into a thin line as she regarded him with contempt, his response obviously not the one she had been fishing for.  He should have stopped there, but his mouth spit the next words out before he could properly think.   _And I think Alex is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen_.

 

The moment the words left his mouth he wanted to take them and shove them back in.  Not because they weren't true- they were- but because they were words Daisy didn't need to hear.  Daisy may not have been the woman he wanted, but that didn't call for him to be a prick.  The moment she was out of the booth and snatching up her overly large bag as she headed for the exit, he tried to stop her, which only made things worse.

 

When he told her that he hadn't wanted things to end badly between them, it had only confirmed for her that he was intending on leaving her.  With a few more heated words, she also drew from him that he did indeed have his eyes set on Alex Kingston.  The stinging slap to the face he received was well deserved.

 

Since she stormed out of the pub, he hasn't seen her or heard from her since.  She moved all of her things from his flat while he was filming, which disappointed him because he really had been hoping to try to end things on better terms.  But he supposes that if he were in her shoes, he wouldn't want to talk to him anymore either.

 

Without Daisy in the picture, there really is no question as to whether he should pursue Alex or not- regardless of the mess that it may make of his heart.  He reminds himself that it has to be extremely rare to be given a  _third_  chance.  Fate herself has decided to smile down on him, and he is going to try his hardest not to screw this up.

 

And now, with Alex back from LA, he has a plan- it's written out and everything.  He knows his plans hardly ever actually turn out as he hopes, but this one has to work.  It just  _has_  to.

 

Pulling out a worn, folded piece of paper that looks as if it's been opened and reopened far too many times, he smooths it out and gives the scrawled writing a small frown.

 

_Step one:   Warm her to the idea of being more than friends_

 

_Step two:  Ask her to dinner_

 

_Step three:  Get her to actually_ agree _to dinner_

 

_Step four:_

 

Matt blinks down at the three vague steps and the fourth blank one.

 

Well.  That has to be the most rubbish plan he's ever made.

 

Crumpling the paper in his hand, he sighs and throws it in a nearby bin.  He has  _no idea_  how to go about convincing Alex that he is permanent-man material.  Last time  _she_  had been the assertive one- the only thing he did was stare too much and bring her coffee.

 

Matt pauses, a smile breaking across his face as he realizes he found his first step.

 

XxX

 

Matt has been... _affectionate_  as of late.  That's the only term she can think to use for his behavior, really.  Not  _overly_  so, but definitely more so than normal, and she cannot figure out if it's something she should raise her guard to or if it's just how Matt is and she's only being hyper aware of every movement he makes.

 

His rules for personal boundaries are nonexistent, be it lunch time and he's plopping himself next to her at the picnic table, so close that their thighs are pressed together and she can smell the fresh scent of his cologne with every light breeze of the wind.  Or when she's having to relearn the TARDIS controls for one particular scene and he is helping her, hovering behind her so close that she can  _feel_  the heat from him, his breath tickling her ear as he leans in, talking her through the process while placing his hand over hers and moving her fingers to the correct button on the console.

 

That's distracting enough  _without_  the little touches he tends to bestow on her as well.  A light tap to her nose, a gentle tug to a curl by her face or a warm hand on the small of her back- all accompanied by a soft smile that makes her insides go wobbly.

 

And then there's the tea- or coffee if the occasion calls for it- that he brings to her every day without fail.  That gesture by itself is enough to bring a smile to her face, but on every paper cup is a scrawled greeting, a silly note or, more often than not, a compliment that turns her smile into a besotted grin fitting of a school girl with her first crush.

 

_Morning Kingston!!!  No rain today!  Isn't it lovely?  xx_

 

_Dear god how am I supposed to focus on my lines with you in that Cleopatra getup?!!  I honestly think the costume department has it out for me (:  xx_

 

_I wonder how the Doctor feels about his woman snogging all of those Stormcage guards?  xx_

 

_You look beautiful.  xx_

 

_Bloody hell are those jodhpurs painted on?!!  Not that I'm complaining (: xx_

 

_Like my top hat, Kingston?  I'm glad that River approves of this one.  My poor fez ):  xx_

 

_Still can't figure out if you hair is made of sunshine or magic.  Maybe a bit of both?  This is an ongoing investigation.  xx_

 

_Can't believe we have only one more day of filming together.  Be prepared to comfort me in my sadness.  xx_

 

Those notes are something she looks forward to everyday, and when she leaves to go back to LA she finds that she is going to miss them a great deal- not that it has anything to do with the man writing them.  She is surprised, however, when she continues to receive them after all, except through text message and not on a paper cup.

 

The first one pops up on the screen of her phone the moment she lands in LA:   _Miss you already ): xx_

 

A smile instantly blooms across her face as she replies.   _I miss you too, darling.  x_

 

It continues like that for weeks, her waking up to a text on her phone and responding to it before she even gets out bed.  And somehow she goes from barely acknowledging her phone's existence to carrying it around wherever she goes, immediately responding to every text he sends her.

 

"Mummy who are you talking to?"  Salome looks up from her drawing, glancing inquisitively at Alex's phone as it alerts her of the sixth text she's gotten in the past three minutes.

 

"No one, honey."

 

"Oh."  For a moment she continues to draw before pausing.  "How can you be talking to no one?"

 

Her daughter's face is one of genuine confusion and Alex smiles, dropping a kiss to the crown of Salome's head as she moves from the kitchen to the living room, calling behind her, "I'm only talking to Matt."

 

Salome gasps, jumping from her chair and running after Alex.  "The Doctor?!"

 

"Yep," she affirms with a smile as she takes a seat on the sofa, Salome following and practically sitting right on top of her, an excited grin on her face.  "Mummy you have to tell him I say hi!"

 

After she does so, Matt's reply comes a few seconds later.   _Tell her I say hello!!!  How is the poppet?  I still have her painting hung on my fridge (: xx_

 

"He says hello," relays Alex, "And that he's kept your painting on his fridge."

 

A smile breaks across Salome's face as she matter-of-factly states, "I really like Matty."

 

"Yeah," answers Alex as she stares seriously at her phone, "So do I."

 

XxX

 

The red dirt stretches further than the eye can see, the towering rocks that seem to be reaching for the sun offering a stunning sight as they travel into the middle of nowhere- literally. 

 

Utah.  This area of America seems to hold absolutely nothing except dry dirt, orange rocks and a ruthless sun.  It's gorgeous really- miles and miles of land that has been untouched by man and left in its natural state.  For a moment he feels the prickling of tears that he immediately blinks away.  The vast red landscape against the shining, cloudless sky is a sight that holds no comparison to anything he has ever seen.  It is unique in its beauty and latches unexpectedly to his emotions.

 

A loud sniffling from beside him snaps him from his thoughts.  Alex sits beside him on the bus that is taking them to their filming location, staring out the window at the view and attempting to cover the fact that she's crying by wiping away her tears as she hooks a curl behind her ear that immediately springs back into place.  Smiling softly, he takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers as she looks at him, obviously startled, as if she had forgotten that he was sitting next to her.

 

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  Matt asks, reaching with his other hand to wipe a tear from her cheek, trying to silently convey that he understands why she is crying.

 

Looking away from him hurriedly, she mumbles, "You must think I'm ridiculous."

 

"I do not," he answers, offended.  "I nearly cried myself."

 

When she risks a glance at him, as if trying to tell if he is being honest or not, he only grins widely at her, which immediately earns him a roll of her eyes and a suppressed smile, "Idiot."  It sounds more like a term of endearment than anything else and it only broadens his smile- as does the fact that she hasn't let go of his hand.

 

XxX

 

"Don't just stand there,  _we have to go_."  Karen attempts to drag him out of the hotel lobby toward the bus to again take the ride out to their filming location.

 

"I'm waiting on Alex," Matt huffs and she immediately stops in her tracks, giving him a knowing smile that he does not like the look of  _at all_.

 

"How much longer you gonna wait on her, mate?"  Arthur asks around a mouthful of bagel as he approaches.

 

Grateful for a distraction from Karen's inevitable prying questions, Matt shrugs.  "Until she comes down from her room?"

 

Arthur shakes his head.  "No.  I meant how much longer are you gonna  _wait_   _on her_?"  The implication of the question brings back the uncomfortable feeling and he tries to play it off.  "What do you mean?"  His voice is slightly higher pitched than normal and Karen rolls her eyes.  "Oh  _come on_.  It's obvious you like her, idiot face, we're not  _blind_."

 

The back of his neck begins to burn as he heatedly denies the accusation.  "I do not!"

 

They both raise their brows in disbelief, and Matt deflates under the look, suddenly finding his shoes a more interesting sight as he quietly asks,  "That obvious?"

 

Karen snorts in affirmation and opens her mouth to say something when Arthur gently shoves her to shush her, receiving a glare in return as he speaks.  "Look, all I was trying to say is that you can't wait on her forever to notice you."

 

"She does notice me!"  Matt says defensively, head snapping back up.

 

Their eyebrows raise again and he huffs.  "Stop that.  She  _does_."

 

"Then you should just ask her on a date," Karen suggests bluntly and Arthur nods as he takes another bite of his bagel.

 

Looking between them, he sputters disbelievingly, "I can't just ask her on a date!"

 

Karen frowns.  "Why not?"

 

" _Because_  Kazza," he falters for a moment, his voice becoming much quieter as he realizes how true his next words are.  "She would never agree."  All of his tea-making and note-writing and over-texting that he's done in the past few months hasn't done him a bit of good- Alex still looks at him the same way she always has.

 

"You don't know unless you ask."

 

"And if you wait too long, you just might miss your chance, mate," adds Arthur as he nods towards the lift.  When Matt looks, he sees Alex exiting the lift with some bloke he's never seen before- just another guest at the hotel.  It normally wouldn't bother him, but Alex is laughing brightly, her head thrown back and he  _really_  doesn't like the way Mystery Man is eyeing her chest as she does so.

 

He has been extremely patient, trying  _so hard_  to get Alex to change how she views him, to get her to see him as someone she would like to be in a relationship  _without_  him having to plant the idea in her head by asking her before she's ready.  But now he realizes that he cannot play patient any longer- she is single and gorgeous and witty and  _of course_  other men are going to want her.  And if he doesn't make it obvious to her that he wants her too, she may  _never_  consider him and he'll lose her- again- without being given a proper chance.

 

His palms sweat and his insides feel jittery as he tries to come to terms with his next step- he has to ask Alex Kingston on a date.


	12. Your boldness stands alone among the wreck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons
> 
> It's quite terrible how I'm incapable of keeping to a schedule with this fic. SO HERE'S THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER. Sunday afternoon I will upload the last official chapter, and that evening I will post the epilogue. WE'RE SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE.

_Dinner? xx_

 

Her heart catches in her throat the moment she reads the question Matt has left on her paper cup.  Having expected the usual flirty comment or compliment, she nearly drops it, staggering backward as if the simple word has given her a physical blow to the chest.

 

The question, as innocent as it appears scrawled against a floral print cup containing her favorite tea, is heavy with connotations that she is nowhere near ready to entertain.  It could mean a number of things- dinner as costars, dinner as friends, dinner as  _more than friends_ , or dinner as more than friends with the hope of  _more_.

 

Swallowing heavily, she finds herself panicking internally because it more than likely means the last option.  And god, she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to go to dinner with him, hold his hand, kiss him over the table, take him back to the hotel and shag him senseless, and then repeat the process with him for the rest of her life. 

 

But she knows that scenario is only plausible in her mind and  _not_  in reality, which is why she could never accept an invitation to dinner with him.  It would escalate into something so much more, and as wonderful as it would be at first, he would leave her eventually.  He would hurt her.  Not that he would ever mean to- Matt doesn’t have a single harmful bone in his body- but he would, and she would be left to pick up the pieces of her broken and irreparable heart.

 

A small voice in her head contradicts her logic as she glances up to find Matt watching her, a fleeting expression of deep sadness etched across his face before it smooths into one of indifference, forcing a smile as he realizes she is watching him before glancing away, jaw set.  The voice whispers to her, tells her that it is obvious that he cares, that it is obvious that after all this time he still  _loves_  her, and that maybe, if given the chance, he wouldn’t hurt her at all.

 

A dull ache settles in her chest as she watches him determinedly avoid her gaze, the skin around his eyes tight and his lips pressed into a thin line.  Never, in all the time that she knew him, had he hurt her.  She’s the one who hurt him.

 

The sudden realization has tears blurring her vision as she stares down at her now stone cold cup of tea.  Recently he has been putting all of his effort into trying to  _win_  her, she sees that now- but she isn’t worthy of being won.  Matt is wonderful and lovely and never anything but kind.  He is everything she has always wanted but never truly allowed herself to have, keeping him at arm’s length and running away when the opportunity presented itself.

 

Wiping hurriedly at the few tears that have managed to escape down her cheek, her thoughts only affirm that her answer should be no.  Not for her, but for him.  He deserves a woman who can love him without any hesitation, who doesn’t come with heavy baggage, and who will not run away when she is afraid, but instead turn to him, take his hand in hers and let him be with her through thick and thin.

 

The director calls for the cast to take their places on the orangey sand- today is their last day in Utah and they are finishing with Amy, Rory and River distressing over the Doctor’s dead body, so she pushes her personal emotions aside and channels River’s heartache instead.

 

Staring down at Matt’s unmoving face as she delivers her lines, she finds it incredibly easy to get lost in her character’s sadness, though she can’t help but wonder if the emotion is actually entirely her own.

 

The moment filming is done, she heads directly to her trailer to change before boarding the bus that will take them back to their hotel.  Arthur peers at her curiously as she takes the seat next to him, and she can only give him a weak smile in return.

 

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company,” Arthur begins, “but doesn’t Matt normally sit with you?”

 

At that moment, Matt steps onto the bus, his expression falling when he sees her already sitting with Arthur.  For a moment, he only looks at her like he’s an abandoned puppy on the side of the road, but then he quickly glances away and sinks into an empty window seat without a word.

 

“I just needed space,” Alex answers quietly, watching Matt sadly and grateful when Arthur says nothing more about it.

 

The second she is safely behind her hotel door, she leans back against it, holding her breath as she listens for footsteps in the corridor, fully expecting Matt to show up any minute and ask for the answer to his question now that she has nowhere to run.  All day she avoided him, immediately throwing herself into conversations with other people when they took breaks during filming, fleeing directly to her trailer once they wrapped, and then sitting beside Arthur on the ride back. 

 

She wasn’t ready to give him the answer- not when it wasn’t one he didn’t want to hear and one she didn’t want to say.  But regardless of what either of them want, it’s something that is for the best in the long run.  For both of them.  That’s what she has to keep telling herself, because if she doesn’t then she has nothing to hide behind.  She’s built a wall of reason between her and Matt, and if she takes it down then she’ll be exposed for what she truly is- a coward.

_Coward_.  

 

Her mind bitterly spits the word at her and she closes her eyes against the hot tears that well in her eyes at the all too truthful accusation.  When it comes right down to it, nothing but her fear is keeping her from Matt and she  _hates_  herself for it- yet she still lets that fear control her decisions.

 

Figuring she should just tell him now instead prolonging her torture any longer, she inhales deeply and turns, opening the door.  She stops dead in her tracks at the sight of Matt standing on the opposite side of the hall, his back to her and his forehead resting on the wall.  A position of defeat.

 

“Matt?”  She asks hesitantly.  At the sound of her voice, he spins to face her, wringing his hands as he looks at her, nervousness written across his face as he stammers out, “Alex!  Hi.  What are you doing here?  Wait don’t answer that, that was rubbish- course you’re here, that’s your room- I just- I-”  He smooths his hands down the wall behind him, “I was just, um,  _inspecting_  this wall here.”  He knocks on the wall, a red flush spreading along the tops of his ears that she represses a smile at as he continues, “Seems fine, though.  Sturdy.  I’ll just…go.”

 

“Matt,” She says softly as he makes to leave.  Shoulders slumped, he turns to face her and glances up through his fringe.

 

“Of all the things you could have gone with, you chose  _wall inspector_?”

 

His normal boyish grin is back at her words.  “I’ll have you know that wall inspecting is quite an esteemed profession, Kingston.”

 

“I’m sure it is, darling.”

 

The grin slips slowly from his face at the term of endearment, a sudden serious in his eyes as he quietly admits, “I was trying to build up enough courage to knock on your door.”  He pauses.  “I’m feeling a bit like the cowardly lion from the Wizard of Oz right now, if I’m honest.”

 

Genuinely confused as to why  _he_  has reason to be frightened, she only raises her eyebrows in question.  For a moment he only stares at her, looking like he’s having an internal battle before finally confessing, “I’m scared of losing you, Alex.  I’m scared that I’ve already  _lost_  you.  Not as, as ,as,” his hands flail to insert a word that he can’t seem to get out, “but as a  _friend_.  When I asked about dinner- I- I wasn’t trying to, to  _push_  you.  You’ve been avoiding me all day and god that was the  _last_  thing I wanted.”  When he stops, he’s looking at her imploringly, eyes sad.

 

Biting her lip, Alex fidgets for a moment before speaking, “I wasn’t avoiding  _you_ , Matt.  I was avoiding giving you  _an answer_.”

 

Matt frowns.  “Alex I wasn’t expecting an answer  _today_.  Or tomorrow.  Whenever you’re ready to give me an answer is when I’ll expect it.”

 

“I already have one,” she says quietly as he straightens, brows knitting together in surprise.  “I can’t just jump into a relationship, Matt, I-”  He stops her by taking her hands in his, his fingers wrapping around hers and his gaze so intense that it nearly stops her heart.  “I’m not asking for a  _relationship_ , Alex.  Just dinner.”

 

“But-” she starts, and he gives a sharp shake of his head.  “ _Just_  dinner, Alex.  Just dinner with  _you_  is all I want right now.  Kinda like…kinda like a first date.  No other expectations.”

 

Alex stares at him incredulously.  “A first date?”

 

He grins.  “Well we never really had one of those, did we?”

 

“Why?”  She whispers the question, unable to comprehend why he is going through so much trouble just for  _her_.

 

“Because,” Matt answers, “I made a promise to make you  _too happy_ , Alex.  I haven’t forgotten.  And I intend on fulfilling it.”

 

The sting of tears prickle behind her eyes as words from six years ago resurface.  “Matt-”

 

“Just think about it.”  And with that, he’s pressing a lingering kiss to her temple before turning away with a small smile and leaving her to stand alone in the middle of the hallway.

 

XxX

 

It’s been a week since she separated from the cast and crew at Utah and returned to LA- a week since she’s seen Matt or even  _heard_  from him.  No calls, no texts, no anything.  And she knows he’s only trying to give her space, but it is driving her  _mad_.

 

Rolling over in her bed, she faces her alarm clock and glares at the bright green numbers that shine as if  _happy_  that it is  _half four in the morning_.  Groaning into her pillow, Alex squeezes her eyes shut as if she can magically will herself to sleep, but it helps none because her mind refuses to rest and continues to play images of overly-floppy hair, warm hazel eyes full of love and a large palm with slim fingers that fits perfectly with hers.

 

It is frustrating, having him on her mind so constantly that she can’t even  _sleep_ , and not being able to actually see him because he’s half the world away.  Reaching out, she blindly feels for her phone on her bedside table, turning it on once her fingers find it and wincing at the bright light it provides.

 

Squinting at the light, she scrolls through her contacts until she finds Matt’s name.  For a moment she only stares at the screen, worrying her bottom lip briefly before huffing in frustration at herself and tapping on the message icon.  Her text to him contains only one word:

 

_Okay_.  _x_

 

For two minutes she stares at her phone in anticipation, wondering if he’s read it, or if he’s busy filming, or if he even has his phone on.  Her heart is pounding and she is just starting to regret texting him at all when her phone buzzes with his reply and she fumbles to open it.

 

_Okay what???  xx_

 

Fleetingly she thinks that this is her opportunity to back out, that she could just play off the previous text and go back to thinking about all of the what-ifs.  Instead, she glares determinedly at her phone and decides right then that she’s done with being a coward.

 

_Okay I’ll go to dinner with you.  A first date.  x_

 

It is just seconds later that her phone lights up with a picture of Matt’s face, vibrating repeatedly and alerting her of the incoming call.  Biting her lip against a smile, she swipes her thumb across the screen to answer.  Before she can even get in a greeting, his voice is in her ear.

 

“When will you be back?”

 

“One week from today.”

 

A beat.

 

“Are you  _sure_ , Alex?”

 

A smile blooms across her lips, and suddenly she realizes that she has never been surer about agreeing to this  _date_  than anything else.  

 

“I’m positive, darling.”

 

XxX

 

It's the longest week of his entire life.  The hours of filming that normally fly by drag out the days until  _finally_  it is Saturday and he is at the airport to pick up Alex, not caring who sees or what is assumed about them.  Tonight he is taking her on a date- an official, proper  _date_  - and he could care less if the  _entire world_  knew.

 

As passengers file through the gate and into the airport from the plane that just landed, Matt cranes to look over the mass of people in search of those tell-tale curls.  Once he spots them, his heart begins to pound against his chest because he's a bit afraid that things might be awkward between them- or worse, she may tell him that she's changed her mind.  But then he calls out her name, and the moment her eyes land on him her face lights up, a brilliant smile pushing at her cheeks as she rushes toward him.  For a moment he can only stand there, stunned a bit by the happiness that seems to radiate from her and the fact that it is  _his_  presence that put that beaming smile on her face.  

 

A moment later he finds his arms full of Alex, the scent of honey and vanilla wrapping around him and his vision obscured by a mass of curls as her arms circle his neck.  Grinning, he locks his arms around her waist and lifts her off her feet, delighting in her small squeak of surprise as he spins in a circle once.  She honest to god  _giggles_  as he places her back on his feet, and it feels like his heart has grown a pair of wings and flown off because it has been  _so long_  since he's heard that tinkling sound.

 

Her hand finds his as they begin to walk, fingers twining together as if that is how they’re meant to be.  Matt’s heart skips a beat as he stares at her, realizing in that moment that Alex is placing her heart in his hands.  For so long he tried to tear down the defensive walls that protected her heart and didn’t allow him to be any closer than arm’s length, but now she’s taken them down for him, pushing her fear of heartbreak aside to give him-  _them_ \- a proper chance, and he couldn’t be happier.

 

“So, darling,” Alex starts as she smiles up at him, “Where are you taking me for our date?”

 

XxX

 

Nothing goes according to plan.

 

Somehow the reservation he made for them at the restaurant he chose is given away and they are forced to sit at a cramped table in the back.  He counts that as one strike against him.

 

During the course of the meal he manages to knock over  _two_  glasses of wine, one spilling on the table cloth and dripping to the floor, and the other ruining Alex’s dress.  Strike two. 

 

And now, as they exit the taxi, rain is falling heavily from the night sky, drenching them to the bone as they run toward the building that houses their temporary flats.  And of course he would forget to bring an umbrella.

 

_Strike three_ , Matt thinks bitterly as they find shelter in the stairwell.

 

For a moment, Matt can only stare dejectedly at his feet, almost one hundred percent certain that Alex will never agree to a second date with him after this disaster of a night.

 

The sound of Alex’s light laugh pulls him from his brooding, looking up at her in confusion.

 

“What?”

 

Alex shakes her head, rain-heavy curls giving a slight bounce as she continues to smile fondly at him.  “Nothing, darling.  I just had a really wonderful time this evening.”

 

Frowning, Matt glances at her wine-stained dress, which is now soaked from the rain and clinging to her body like a second skin- not that  _he_  minds- and concludes that she  _has_  to be joking.

 

“You don’t get it, do you?”  Alex asks softly, looking down at him from her place on the stair just above him, making her only a bit taller than him as she gently brushes the fringe of his hair from his eyes.

 

“Some spilled wine and a bit of rain isn’t what defines the evening, darling.”  She smiles.  “Though it did make it a bit more memorable.”

 

“What defines it, then?”

 

“You do, you daft man,” she answers, and Matt can see the regret in her eyes as she confesses, “I’ve missed being  _with you_ , Matt.  I’ve missed holding your hand across a dinner table as we talk about everything and nothing at once.  I’ve missed the way you blush after you do something clumsy because you try  _so hard_  to make everything perfect.  And I’ve missed how you look at me so openly, heart on your sleeve, as if I’m the only person who matters.”  She pauses, glancing away briefly as tears form in her eyes.  “But I got all of that back tonight, and  _that_  is what defines the evening.”

 

Matt steps up to join her on the stair she’s standing on, brushing a wet curl from her face as he whispers, “You  _are_  the only one who matters, Alex.”

 

“Even after all this time?”  The question is quiet, but heavy with an unspoken plea for forgiveness.  A small smile finds its way to the corners of Matt’s lips because she  _doesn’t get it_  - she has done  _nothing_  that needs forgiving.  The years they spent apart made him realize exactly how much he loves the woman standing right in front of him, and he likes to think that maybe their time separated did the same for Alex.

 

“ _Especially_  after all this time,” Matt answers, wiping away a tear that is slowly rolling down her cheek and hoping to erase any regret she feels toward their past with it.

 

She kisses him then, lips soft and warm against his own as her fingers curl into the wet material of his shirt.  If hearts could burst from happiness, he thinks his would as he tangles his fingers in her damp curls, pulling her as close as he can get her and opening his mouth under hers.  He could almost weep at the taste of her- sweet red wine, a hint of chocolate from the cake they shared earlier and something that is so distinctly  _Alex_ , which is what he has missed most of all.

 

When they pull back they are both a bit breathless, matching grins spread across their faces.  As they finish the climb up the stairs and down the hall, they exchange small, quick kisses and nips at lips between their giddy laughter as if they were both teenagers again.

 

They bid each other good night with one more long, deep kiss that results in an embarrassingly soppy grin feeling permanently etched onto his face.  Maybe their date didn’t go so terribly after all.


	13. I waited 'til I saw the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Don't Know Why by Norah Jones
> 
> We've finally made it to the last chapter! Thank you so SO much to those of you who rode out this fic- it means the world to me. The epilogue will be posted sometime before I go to bed~

“You two are totally shagging.”

 

Matt narrows his eyes at Karen’s smug grin. “We are not  _shagging_ , Kazza. We’re just…we’re just  _dating_. That’s it.”

 

“Well usually dating  _leads_  to shagging and you two have been dating for  _months_.”

 

“We’re not shagging!” A few of the crew glance up amusedly and Matt sinks back against the desk he’s standing in front of, tugging at the lapels of the Doctor’s green coat as he throws Karen a withering look.

 

“Well why not?” Karen huffs, glancing at Alex who is standing across the room, hair and makeup artists flitting around her as they prepare her for the regeneration scene. “If  _I_  was into women and had Alex bloody Kingston on my arm, I think I’d probably break my third date rule.”

 

Matt gapes at her.

 

“What?” Karen asks, cheeks coloring slightly, “I’m just saying she’s fit as hell is all.”

 

“Yes  _thank you_ , Kaz, I can see that.  We’re just…I just wanted to take it slow,” Matt finally answers, leaving out the words  _this time_  at the end of his sentence.

 

Karen’s eyes widen and a knowing smile appears on her lips, something that has Matt’s guard up in an instant.  He  _hates_  it when she smiles at him like that. “Oh I get it.  You don’t just  _fancy_  her, do you Smith?  You  _love her_.”

 

“Who does he love?” Arthur asks as he approaches, taking his spot in front of the desk at Matt’s left.

 

“Alex,” Karen states smugly, as if she had just found out his most hidden secret.

 

Unimpressed, Arthur simply looks at her. “Where have you been, moon face?  That’s been obvious since day one.”

 

Matt opens his mouth as if to protest, no matter how true it may be, but is stopped as it is announced that it’s time to begin filming.  Then ‘action’ is called and Alex is giving a scream, arms thrown out, and Matt can almost envision the golden light of regeneration energy.  As she shakes herself, he is incapable of doing much more than staring, eyes tracking her curves as her hands roam over her body then fly to her hair.

 

She gasps as her fingers find the curls and she instantly heads for the mirror, delivering her lines and exclaiming over her teeth.  Matt’s breath hitches in his throat as she turns, fixing him with a predatory look as she rushes toward him.  The details of the script are vague, but he is almost a hundred percent sure that it  _doesn’t_  say for her to force him back onto the desk, stepping between his legs and pressing all of her soft curves against areas that should definitely  _not_  be reacting with a camera rolling but most definitely  _are_.

 

Then she’s gone, taking her warmth with her and leaving him to gape after her, flustered and suddenly frustrated.

 

And  _of course_  the director  _loves_  the invasion of personal space and asks them to include that in the next take as well.  This time he knows what to expect, but any amount of mental preparation flies out the window the moment she is between his legs again, smelling wonderful, eyes shining and voice entirely too suggestive as she once again delivers her lines.

 

His trousers are considerably tighter at just her proximity and her tone, a naughty smile lurking at the corners of her mouth as she turns, wiggling her bum just enough to pull an involuntary gasp from his throat, hands flailing around her waist because all he wants is to just grab her by the hips and grind against her until that smug smile is replaced by an entirely different expression of pleasure.

 

When the director calls cut and announces a break while they review the footage they have, Karen turns to him, infuriating grin in place. “ _Definitely_  shagging.”

 

“Oh shove off, Kazza,” Matt grumbles, watching Alex talk briefly with the director before glancing at him with a smile, the laughter in her eyes telling him that she knows  _exactly_  what she’s done to him during those few takes.

 

 _Wench_ , Matt thinks with a smile as she disappears down one of the many corridors the building possesses, her hips swaying enticingly as if she  _knows_  his eyes are glued to her bum.  The sashaying of her hips lures him in like a siren call and he’s already walked five steps in her direction before he realizes that he’s moved at all.

 

When he reaches the hall she slipped down, he finds it empty, frowning as he continues to travel down it, his tentative steps echoing softly around him.  The moment he reaches the first intersection, a hand reaches out, fisting around the thick material of his coat and pulling him into the adjacent hallway.  There is only time for him to let out a considerably unmanly squeak of surprise before a pair of warm lips are on his, hands finding their way into his hair.

 

Matt gives a pleasantly surprised hum as his own hands find purchase on Alex’s waist, immediately pressing her against the wall and aligning the smooth, flat planes of his body against her soft curves as if he can’t get close enough to her.  Her mouth opens under his, tongue sliding across the seam of his lips, asking for entrance that he immediately gives, groaning at her taste of tea and lipstick.

 

The melding of lips, teeth and tongue send a slow desire spilling through his veins, travelling through every inch of his body to focus on one point that causes his trousers to become all too tight for his liking.  But the feeling is nothing compared to how he feels when she rolls her hips into his, breaking away from the kiss with a gasp and whispering against the skin of his neck, “I wanted to have you right there on that desk.”

 

Her lips pucker lightly against his skin, a small, barely-there kiss to his neck, and it’s that small gesture that sparks the fire. Combine it with her words and the pressure of her body against his as she rolls her hips again, and it is enough to make him suddenly feel as if he has been lit aflame, a blazing lust sent searing through his very bones and threatening to engulf him.

 

So he kisses her again, a needy, desperate,  _filthy_  kiss full of moans and hands grappling at clothes that have to stay on skin and cannot be thrown to the floor like they both want.  Instead he settles for hitching one of her stocking-covered legs up to his waist, hand behind her knee as he grinds unabashedly against the heat of her core, mindlessly seeking for any form of friction and suddenly forgetting all about his want to take it slow.

 

Alex pulls back from the kiss at the intimate contact, head thumping back against the wall behind her and fingers gripping his shoulders as she moves against him as if neither of them have on a bit of clothing.  With her low hum of contentment, bottom lip caught between her teeth and eyes dark, it’s all Matt can do to  _not_  drag her into the nearest room, close the door and shag her senseless right there.

 

He begins to consider the consequences of doing just that, his resolve crumbling to his feet, when there’s the far off call from the director asking everyone to take their places.  The lust clouding his mind disappears in an instant, looking at Alex with wide eyes as he jumps back as if someone had actually rounded the corner and caught them in the act.  Her expression mirrors his, as if both of them can’t believe what they just did, what they were both just considering, when they’re meant to be  _working_.

 

But then he takes in her ruffled appearance- swollen lips, mussed hair and a slightly wrinkled dress.  And he must look just as bad because at the same time they both begin to laugh.  Stifling her giggles, Alex smiles fondly, swiping her thumb over Matt’s lip to wipe away a lipstick smudge.

 

“You look a mess, darling.”

 

"Not the only one, Kingston," he replies with a smile, heat rising to his cheeks as he attempts to smooth his hair back into some semblance of neatness, feeling like a bloody teenager who can’t keep his hormones under control.

 

"Worth it," she counters, smirk hiding at the edges of her lips as she gives her hair a fluff and straightens her dress, and he can't help but agree with her.

 

The director is just about to call for them when they return, covering their absence by claiming that they were working out a few details of the script.  But apparently that alibi doesn't fly with Karen because when he glances over at her, that knowing grin is in place as she mouths, " _Shagging_."

 

XxX

 

If she had to pinpoint the moment it happened, she would probably choose the time seven years ago when he fell right on top of her, those hazel eyes staring at her like he had never seen anything more beautiful before scrambling off her with pink cheeks and a flustered apology.

 

Or maybe she would choose the time he danced with her in the center of an outdoor garden market, right in the middle of the street with no music, the cold air biting through their clothing but neither of them caring as they wore equally soppy grins that provided them with the warmth they needed.

 

Or maybe it was when he confessed his own love for her over a year later at a train station, tears in his eyes as he let her go for a second time with a promise on his lips that she had no idea until now that he would actually keep.

 

Or possibly it could have been the way he was so adorably nervous of ruining everything on their first official date, trying so hard to impress her that the end result was him spilling two glasses of wine- one ruining her dress- and though he thought the night went terribly because of it, she thought it was perfect.

 

Maybe it came from the way he enjoys showering her with affection in public, kissing her with all he has right in the middle of a store or on the street, not giving a toss about other people or the press and sneering at any unkind words that may show up about them in the paper the next day.

 

Though truthfully, she believes that it is all of those moments combined, and as she walks outside during their lunch break, she finds herself adding another small moment to the list, her heart melting as she spots him sitting with her daughter at a picnic table, laughing and helping her color a page in her coloring book between bites of his sandwich.

 

Quite suddenly she realizes that she doesn't ever want the list to end, that she wants to spend the rest of her life finding all of the ways Matt Smith makes her fall in love with him, because after all this time she finally sees that loving him is, and always has been, as easy as breathing.

 

XxX

 

The evening that Salome spends the night with Karen for some 'girl bonding' time is the perfect opportunity to tell him, Alex decides.

 

So she sets up what she likes to think a romantic evening- cooking an elaborate dinner for two and placing candles all around the flat to use as their source of lighting.  The moment she opens the door to his ridiculous face she wants to tell him right then, but she opts to wait until she deems the moment right.

 

That moment doesn't present itself until the dishes are in the sink, two empty wine glasses rest on the coffee table and the candles are nearing the end of their wick.  They sit on her sofa, Alex curled into his side with her head on his shoulder as his fingers play mindlessly with her curls, chatting easily in the dim light.  When there is a lull in the conversation, Alex can feel her heart speed up, worrying her bottom lip because she knows- this is the moment, the moment she'll take her heart and place it in his hands for him to watch after and protect, having to blindly trust that he will do just that and not simply toss it aside like the other men in her life have done.

 

Glancing up, she watches his profile for a few moments, smiling when he finally looks down to meet her gaze.  She reaches up, brushing back the fringe that flops into his eyes, and he catches her wrist as she goes to move it back to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her palm that melts her heart and has the words coming from her lips in a soft whisper, "I love you."

 

He freezes, watching her with wide eyes as if he can't believe what she just said.

 

"So much, Matt," she continues, tears prickling behind her eyes.  "I love you  _so much_."

 

His lips are on hers almost before she gets out the last word, hands at her waist and pulling her into his lap.  She can feel his smile against her lips and she can't help but pull back to smile at him in return, her heart skipping at the utter joy written across his face.

 

Arms wrapping around her waist, he looks at her seriously.  "And I love you, Alex.  Always have."

 

Resting her hands on his chest, fingers spreading out over the soft material of his shirt, she confesses, "I've loved you from the very beginning, you know.  I was just too scared to acknowledge it."

 

"And you're not scared now?"

 

When she shakes her head, he bends down to kiss her again, a soft, tender kiss full of love and promises of the future.  After that, they don't do much more talking, hands roaming with the intent of removing clothing, shirts finding their way to the floor and lips trailing wet kisses over every new bit of exposed skin.

 

With her bra discarded, Matt's attention becomes solely focused on her breasts, lavishing them with kisses and teasing nips and licks until she's squirming, hands fisted in his hair.  "Please, darling," she whispers, grinding her hips down against his and trying to convey that she wants  _more_ , secretly delighting in the strangled groan he gives at the increased contact.

 

Gripping her thighs, he moves them from the sofa to the floor, laying her back and spreading her out on her plush rug, the silky smooth fibers cool against the bare skin of her back.  Light tingles of anticipation shiver through her as Matt ghosts his fingers tips over her clavicle, down the skin of her chest, over pebbled nipples and ribs to her stomach, muscles quivering at the barely there touch until he finally reaches the button of her jeans.

 

She swears she can  _hear_  the seconds that tick by as he slowly pulls down the zip, removing her jeans at an agonizingly slow pace until they are in a heap behind him.  Large palms skim up the outside of her calves, knees, thighs until his face is directly between her legs, nose lightly brushing against the thin material of her knickers.  From the sound of him deeply breathing in her smell, and the almost inaudible growl that comes directly after, her legs are nearly trembling with the need for him to just  _touch her_ , biting back a whimper.

 

" _Matt_."  Her voice is pleading, legs opening wider in an attempt to try to get him to take the hint.

 

"Patience, Kingston," he says with a smirk, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh.  "I'm savoring the moment."

 

"Savor faster."

 

His answering, low-rumbling chuckle only adds to her building frustration, but then his fingers are hooking into the elastic of her knickers, dragging them down and off her legs to leave her lying completely naked before him.  The darkness of his eyes as he looks at her like she's the most gorgeous things he's ever seen has her heart pounding, temporarily forgetting about her impatience until he smirks at her, dipping his head to curl his tongue through her slick folds.

 

His name breaks as it leaves her throat, hips flying off the rug only to be pushed back down by his hands, fingers curling bruisingly into her skin to ensure that she doesn't move.  Each lick and flick of his talented tongue has her back arching toward the ceiling, fingers burying in his thick hair and fisting there, pulling and tugging in an attempt to get more friction than he wants to give her.

 

"You taste so amazing," he breathes, ignoring her impatience.  The sight of him, face between her legs and licking his lips of her flavor, is nearly her undoing and she decides that she needs him  _right now_.

 

"Matt, darling," she pleads, brushing her fingertips lightly across his cheekbone.  "I want you inside of me."

 

At her words, he presses a soft kiss to the crease of her thigh and moves back, ridding himself of his trousers and pants, and she nearly moans at the sight of him, mouth watering at the pale skin and light dusting of dark hair that trails down to his straining erection.

 

Her fingers catch his wrist as he moves to retrieve a condom from his pocket.  "I trust you."

 

For a moment he only watches her, then he's settling between her legs, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles before threading his fingers with hers, a motion that has her blinking back tears as she recalls the way he held out his hand to her the very first time she had him in her bed.

 

His erection nudges insistently against her as he leans down, first pressing his lips to hers before trailing lingering kisses along her neck.  "Tell me again."  It's a whispered demand into her ear, and she knows exactly what he's asking.

 

Turning her head, she kisses him once more, relishing the way his lips leaves hers tingling and always wanting more, before she tells him what he wants to hear.  " _I love you_."  The last word comes out on a gasp as he sinks into her with a groan, burying his face by her neck.

 

She feels so completely  _full_  with him inside her, and when he whispers that he loves her too, it feels like her heart is full as well.

 

The pace he sets is slow, moving in long, deep thrusts that take her breath away.  The burn that begins to stir within her is heavy, a gradual pleasure that feels as if it has been building for weeks from their mad, desperate snogging and filthy grinding sessions that happen when too much tension has built up and no one is looking- almost as if it had been months of foreplay to lead up to this moment, and now, with her love for him openly voiced, she's glad they waited.

 

Using the hand that is not holding onto hers, he hikes one of her legs over his shoulder, and suddenly that burn ignites into a full flame, sparking its way under every inch her skin until she feels like she is glowing from the heat of it.  With every forward thrust, his abdomen strikes across her clit, pulling moans and breathy cries from her as he begins to drive into her in earnest, her skin breaking out with a thin sweat and sliding against the soft rug beneath her.

 

Pressing his forehead to hers, he begins to whisper to her in a low growl, telling her how beautiful she is, how much he loves her and how she is  _his_  and his alone.  The love and  _possession_  behind his gravelly voice becomes the difference from her teetering on the edge to falling off.  Lights burst from behind her eyes, covering her vision in a temporary blinding whiteness as she comes, her love for him on her lips, fingers from her free hand clawing at his back, and her toes curling into the rug that lies beneath them.

 

His hips stutter into hers as he's pulled with her, a hoarse cry torn from his throat and his fingers tightening around hers.  Then it’s all heavy breathing and lazy kisses as they come down from their high, him rolling to lay beside her, fingers still twined together as their skin begins to cool.  Curling into his side, she kisses the place over his heart and whispers, "I love you  _so much_ ," thinking that now that she's said it, she's going to keep saying it with every opportunity that she gets.

 

He presses his lips to her brow and returns the affection in a sleepy voice as her own eyes begin to flutter closed.  The next time she opens her eyes, she is sure that an hour or two has passed, Matt pulling her to her feet and mumbling about bed in a barely-awake haze.  They both stumble down the hall, nearly running into the wall in their sleepy state as they turn into her bedroom, giggling lightly before falling into bed, limbs tangling together as sleep reclaims them.

 

XxX

_Day One-_

 

He never really gives it much thought, never actually _seriously_ entertains the idea until Alex is back in LA and he’s strolling alone down the street to his favorite café.  That’s when he sees it, sparkling up through a dull display window of a tiny shop he’s never once paid any attention to until now.  Because _now_ the most perfect engagement ring he’s ever laid eyes on is shining up at him.

 

He only spends a moment staring at it, not wanting to be late to his lunch with Karen and Arthur.  But after that moment, he can’t quite seem to get the terms _Alex_ and _wife_ to separate in his head.

 

_Day Two-_

 

He’s on the other side of the street, but he can still hear the ring call his name, just as it has been since he laid eyes on it yesterday.  Slowing to a stop, he glances over at the shop- _Julius’ Jewelry_ \- and frowns.

 

The impulse to run across the street and into the small store is one that he fights.  Scoffing suddenly, he continues traveling down the street and away from the shop.  He loves Alex, of course he does, and she loves him- but what would she say to him if he _proposed_ to her?

 

His heart races at just the mere thought, but he honestly doesn’t know if it’s in joy of the possibility of forever with her, or in fear of rejection.

 

_Day Three-_

 

He finds himself standing in front of the slightly-yellowed display window without realizing his feet have brought him here.  But then again, where else would he be?  He even had a bloody _dream_ about the ring last night.

 

Bending down, he shields the glass from the sun with his hand, removing the glare so he can get a better look.  From what he can tell through the grimy window, it really is a stunning ring and would look _gorgeous_ on Alex’s finger.

 

A ring.  An _engagement ring_.  On _Alex’s finger_.  A statement for the world to know that she is _his_.

 

Matt giggles then, falling completely in love with the thought.  Standing, he glances at the door hesitantly, contemplating entering before turning away from the shop, afraid that if he walks in, he’ll buy the ring on impulse instead of giving the subject the serious thought it deserves.

 

_Day Four-_

 

A welcome bell gives a delighted jingle as Matt pushes open the door to Julius’ Jewelry.  Just going in doesn’t mean he has to _buy_ it, right?  Right.

 

The shop is as small on the inside as it looks like it would be from the outside- just a hole-in-the-wall, non-company owned jewelry store.  Ragged carpet, dim lighting and a few display cases with a variety of jewelry is what the store holds.  That, and an owner who seems to be completely unaware of Matt’s presence, closely inspecting a ring under the bright light of a lamp.

 

When Matt closes the door, setting off the jingling of the bell again, the owner jumps and looks up at Matt in surprise.  He’s an older man, short and thin with greying hair and wrinkles around his eyes that deepen when he smiles.

 

“Finally decided to come in, I see.”

 

Matt’s brow wrinkles in confusion, and the man chuckles, returning his attention back to the ring he holds as he says, “You’ve been eying that ring in front for the past three days.  Was starting to wonder if you were ever going to actually come in or just stand there and pine over it forever.”  The man smiles at him again, eyes sparkling with laughter as if he had just made the best joke, and suddenly Matt feels embarrassed for a reason he doesn’t understand.

 

“Would you like me to get it out of the case for you?”

 

Matt nods and thanks him, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head as the man fishes out a key and makes his way to the front window display case, pulling out the ring for Matt and placing it in his hands.

 

“It’s a gorgeous ring,” the owner comments and Matt nods, eyes glued to the small piece of jewelry that is now in his hands.

 

It’s even more gorgeous this close, a delicate design etched into the white gold band, the beautifully cut, but modest diamond in the center glowing as if it’s never been happier to have a customer hold it- and suddenly Matt can see it belonging nowhere except on Alex Kingston’s finger.

 

He knows that he wants to marry her, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her, and he’s fairly certain that this is the ring he should use when he asks her to make that commitment.

 

However, he’s been told once or twice that his taste when it comes to these sort of things is awful, so he hands the ring back to the owner with a ‘thank you’ and leaves the store, deciding he needs a second opinion.

 

_Day Five_

 

“Where are we going?”  Karen whines as Matt pulls her along behind him through the street.

 

“Just be patient, Kaz,” Matt answers for the third time, walking past a few more stores before halting with a grin, gesturing to the shop in front of him.

 

“Julius’ Jewelry?”  She asks, brows raised high in surprise.

 

Matt nods enthusiastically, turning to the display window.  “I wanted your opinion on-” He freezes, staring at the empty place that used to be home to ring that he had held in his hands just yesterday.  Going cold in fear that the ring had been sold, Matt bursts into the store, Karen in tow and still looking confused.

 

The owner starts at the loud entrance, but grins when he sees Matt.

 

“Did you sell it?”  Matt sincerely hopes that his voice doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he thinks it does.

 

“Some bloke with a rather nasty attitude came in asking about it this morning,” the man answers.

 

Matt feels his heart drop to the floor.

 

“But,” the owner continues, the skin around his eyes crinkling as his cheeks push up into another smile, “I told him that it wasn’t for sale.”  And with that, he pulls a small velvet box out from behind the desk and places it on the counter.

 

Matt has never felt more relieved as he rushes to the counter, opening the box to find the ring he’s been wanting to buy since he laid eyes on it.

 

“Knew you’d come back,” the man says offhandedly.

 

“Thank you,” Matt says.  “ _Thank you_ ,” suddenly so grateful that he would sodding hug the man if it weren’t for the counter separating them.

 

“Oh my god, _Matt_ ,” Karen gasps from her place next to him, staring down at the ring.  “Is this for Alex?”

 

Matt grins.  “What do you think?”

 

She damn near _bounces_ in excitement, throwing her arms around Matt as she squeals in excitement.  “Oh my god, you’re getting married!”

 

“I have to ask her first, Kazza!”

 

Karen rolls her eyes.  “There’s no way she’s going to say no, moron.”

 

Looking back down at the ring, he bites down on his bottom lip.  “So you think she’ll say yes?”

 

“I _know_ she’ll say yes.”

 

After five days of “pining,” as the owner puts it, Matt finally buys it, leaving the store with the ring and the biggest smile on his face.

 

XxX

 

Alex and Salome agree to stay with him in his flat when they return from LA, and Matt loves everything about it- from waking up with his face buried in curls, to reading Salome a story before bed, to dancing with them to really loud, ridiculous music in the kitchen while they prepare dinner.

 

It’s very domestic, Matt thinks as he watches Alex and Salome prepare dough for biscuits, Salome standing on a chair to watch properly as her mother mixes everything together- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Striding over to them, he peers into the bowl and glances around at the ingredients, grinning when his eyes land on the flour.  Alex frowns in confusion as he dips his finger in the powdery substance.  “What’re you-” Her sentence is cut short when he trails a streak of flour down the bridge of her nose.  He grins as her shocked expression turns in a glare, though he can see the smile at the corners of her lips.  “Oops?”

 

Her mouth opens to respond, but a laugh comes out instead as he feels a small hand swipe across his face.  Gasping in mock disbelief, he looks at Salome to find her hand covered in white and a mischievousness in her eye that belies her innocent expression as she tries, “Oops?”

 

“I think you’d better run, darling,” comes Alex’s calm voice, but when he looks, he finds both of her hands covered in flour and ready to attack.

 

In no time at all the kitchen becomes grounds for a flour war, the three of them laughing and chasing one another around room.  Soon enough every surface is dusted in white as the flour is thrown and tossed about, finding its way on their faces, hair and clothing until none is left.

 

Finally, a truce is made and Matt seals it with a kiss to Alex’s lips, a kiss that Alex gladly returns even as Salome wrinkles her nose.

 

“Come on, Sal,” Alex says as she pulls back from him with a smile, “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

 

Matt can feel the soppy grin spread across his face as he watches them go- his girls.  And soon to be, he hopes, his family.  All he has to do is ask.

 

XxX

 

His palms are sweaty from his nerves as he stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her read a book at the table.  He has to ask her _today_ and oh god, what if she says no?

 

“Matty how long are you gonna stand there?”  Salome asks without glancing up from her thin book that seems to have more pictures than words, feet kicking gently against the legs of her chair.

 

Swallowing heavily, Matt forces himself to move from his spot and take the chair next to her, trying to tell himself that he shouldn’t feel this intimidated by a little girl.

 

When she looks at him expectantly, he takes a deep breath and begins, “I was thinking- well not thinking really- well I mean _of course_ I’ve been thinking about it- bought the ring and everything, didn’t I?  I just mean I already know what I _want_ to do, but I need to know what _you_ think and-”

 

“What I think about what?”  She asks, halting his ramble.

 

“Well, I- um- I just,”  He huffs at himself before looking at Salome seriously and asking, “You know I love you and your mum more than anything else in this world, right?”

 

The smile that breaks across her face as she nods encourages him.  “So what would you think if I asked your mum to marry me?”

 

Her eyes widen, and for a moment he doesn’t know what she’s going to say, but then she’s throwing her small arms around his neck and he knows that she’s just as happy about the idea as he is.

 

After that, he begins trying to find the best opportunity to ask, more than ready to see that ring on Alex’s finger.  He tries taking her to her favorite restaurant, strolling with her through the park, making her dinner, but none of those moments feel right, and it’s not until they’re on set and he’s writing her a message on her cup of tea like he always does, does he get the idea.

 

XxX

 

They’re doing a night shoot, her favorite kind, and as she exits wardrobe with a happy hum, her smile widens at the sight of her usual cup of tea waiting on her.  The notes Matt scrawls onto her cup always warm her heart- Karen never failing to roll her eyes at Alex’s besotted grin that comes from them, claiming that the two of them are _disgustingly happy_. 

 

Glancing over at Matt, who seems to be watching her with an apprehension she doesn’t understand but gives little thought to, she thinks that _disgustingly happy_ perfectly describes how she feels.

 

Picking up the cup, she is startled to find that it feels nearly empty, and as she reads the note Matt has chosen to leave her this evening, her heart begins to pound against her chest, the words taking her breath away:

 

_Make me too happy, Kingston?  xx_

 

She nearly drops the cup when she removes the lid to find a ring inside.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very last bit! I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for sticking with me to the very end!

The soft color of the lipstick she paints on her lips is the finishing touch to her makeup, and as she leans back, Alex observes herself in the mirror, unable to keep back the bright smile that has been on her face since she jumped out of bed this morning.

 

She’s getting _married_ today.  And though she’s been down the aisle twice before, she’s never felt like she does now, happiness and excited nerves flitting around in her stomach like butterflies as she prepares to wed the man she _knows_ she’ll end up spending the rest of her life with.

 

As she stands, tightening the belt of her dressing gown, she hears her name being whispered through the door of the room and grins.  Knowing it’s Matt, she moves to the door and grips the handle, prepared to swing it open and surprised when the door gets no more than two inches before it’s being slammed closed again by the man on the other side.

 

“You _know_ I’m not supposed to see you yet,” Matt chastises and she huffs.

 

“I’ve not seen you since yesterday evening, Matthew, I think that’s long enough.”  Her tone is a cross one, but she can’t really help it.  Last night she had to sleep in her bed alone instead of curled up next to Matt, and when she woke it was to empty sheets and no sound of his off key humming drifting from the bathroom as he showers like he normally does in the morning.  And all because of some sodding _tradition_.

 

“You know that’s not how it works.  And besides, we only have twenty more minutes.  Not much longer.”

 

With a sigh, she rests her head against the wood of door, feeling like the next twenty minutes is going to take an eternity.

 

Frowning, she asks, “Whose idea was it to abide by this stupid tradition, anyway?”

 

His laugh floats through the door.  “Kazza suggested it.  But _we_ decided on it.”

 

“Well, Karen’s not here and we can always _undecide_ on it,” she tries, just wanting to see him once more before she meets him at the altar.  There is a pause, and she almost thinks that he’s going to give in.

 

But then she hears Karen’s voice yelling at him from out in the hall, “Oi!  Smith!  Don’t you _dare_ ,” and she can’t help but laugh as she hears Matt scramble away from the door.

 

“It’s not funny, Kingst- gah!”  And then his sentence is cut off, followed by some shuffling, and she can only guess that Karen has dragged him back to his designated room to scold him about it being _bad luck_ for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.

 

Smiling to herself, Alex turns to face the dress hanging on a hook next to the vanity.  It really is a gorgeous dress, Alex thinks as she slips out of her dressing down, remembering how Matt had seen it and _insisted_ that she wear it.  She hadn’t planned on wearing an actual wedding dress, but the moment Matt had turned to her with big eyes and a pout, she gave in.

 

It is a simple dress, off-white, elegant and made of a flowy material that dances around her feet and against the skin of her legs when she walks.  The soft fabric clings gently to her curves as she puts it on, the hem tickling her feet as she zips it up herself.  Just as she is slipping into her shoes, there is a gentle knock on the door that she moves to open.

 

Arthur stands on the other side, grin on his face and his hand in the hand of her daughter’s.

 

“Mummy you look so pretty,” Salome says with wide eyes, and Alex smiles, bending down to press a kiss to the crown of her daughter’s head.  “Thank you, Sal.”

 

Taking Salome’s hand, she has her twirl on the spot, admiring the soft pink of her dress and exclaiming, “And aren’t you just the prettiest flower girl!”

 

Her daughter giggles and Arthur smiles before asking Salome, “Didn’t you have something you wanted to give her?”

 

Nodding eagerly, Salome pulls out a ring of peach-colored flowers from her flower basket and gestures for Alex to bend down.  The moment Alex is close enough, Salome places the crown flowers on her head, bouncing excitedly once she’s done.

 

“It’s a nice touch,” Arthur remarks, and Alex smiles, pulling her daughter into a hug.

 

Once they separate, Arthur takes Salome’s hand and grins at Alex as she says, “The wait is killing me.”

 

“It’s almost time,” Arthur assures and she nods, running shaky hands over her dress.

 

“Is Matt ready, then?”

 

“Ready and waiting.”

 

And then suddenly Karen rounds the corner, alerting them that it’s time and everything becomes kind of a blur until Alex is standing in front of the door that will lead her down the aisle to Matt, Arthur’s last words ringing in her ears.

 

_Ready and waiting_.

 

As the doors open and the music begins, Matt turns to face her, a beaming smile pushing at his cheeks at the sight of her.  Her own smile breaks across her face in return, heart racing, and she thinks that despite all of the waiting he’s done since the moment they met, he will never have to wait for her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading (:


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